Teacher's Guide to Dictatorship Rebellions
by faballa
Summary: A man has a large amount of power bestowed on him that he doesn't really want, and it's up to a group of angry professors to take, er, relieve him of that power. Though many are willing, one must battle what may be love...or lust. Whatever. REVISED!
1. Chapter 1: An Inconvenient Wedding

**I don't own any characters except Esme**

**A/N: **Hello, wonderful readers! This is my fifth of five installments centering around boisterous character Esme Slain (who's actually Esme Black now). If my summary caught your eye, fantastic! However, you may want to go back and start from my first story _But You're My Best Friend. _You should know that all of my fics are rated T mostly for swears, and that I really love to get feedback.

If you aren't new to the storyline: Enjoy!

--

"AAAAAAGH!" Esme screamed stomping into the house. Anger bubbled through her like vomit and she wanted to hit the first person she saw.

"Oh look, your wife's home," Remus smirked.

"He TOUCHED me! He dared to lay a hand on me!" she carried on, not hearing Remus' snide comment.

"Um, Esme darling, we have guests…."

"Not now, Sirius! I have to go shower in scalding hot water as a means to rid myself of his, his _desanitizing _touch! I have been sullied! SULLIED!"

"All right, all right, time to calm down dear," he wrapped a comforting arm around her. "Now, why don't you just tell me, Remus and Tonks what happened." Esme paused, her eyes lighting up.

"Oooh, no way; my friends are here!"

"Hey, you can't just randomly stomp into a house, screaming at the top of your lungs, and not give us any answers!" Tonks laughed.

"_Fine. _I was out spying around the Malfoy Manor, Snape caught me and made me leave."

"That wasn't as exciting as I thought it would be."

"He felt me up, too." Sirius spit out his coffee as Remus and Tonks nearly died laughing.

"Oh, wow Esme!" Tonks laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. "I can totally see why you'd want to burn off his touch! Especially if his touch was on second base!"

"Shut up, _Nymphadora," _Sirius growled. Remus' laughter died and his expression faded into something more serious.

"Who stationed you at the Malfoy Manor?" he asked, his brow furrowing curiously.

"Moody," Esme said with a shrug. Moody had seemingly taken over the Order of the Phoenix after Dumbledore had died.

"He shouldn't have sent you," Remus said savagely. "He knew you didn't have a wand."

"He sent you without a wand?" Sirius exclaimed, color rising in his cheeks. "I'll kill him," he growled.

"Sirius!" Esme chastised, then turned to her friends. "Well, you two are obviously here for a reason, spit it out!"

Remus's face fell just as Tonks' lit up. She giggled and shoved a large, diamond-studded ring in her face. "We're getting _married!_"

"Married…?" Esme said faintly. Married? They'd just begun dating.

"Next week!"

"WHAT?!"

"Remus, other room, _now," _Sirius growled. The two men left; Sirius looking awfully pissed, and Remus just looking awful.

"You're getting married?" Esme asked again. She couldn't believe it. If ever there was a time _not _to get married, this was it.

"Uh-huh!"

"Eeeek! You're getting married!" Esme squealed. Still, a wedding was a wedding.

"I know! Oh my God, you so have to be the maid of honor!"

"Oh my God, I know!" Suddenly, Esme's eyes sharpened as she saw Tonks' hand drift to her stomach. "Oh, God…" Realization hit her like a brick wall. Of course, that was why they were getting married so quickly.

"What?" Tonks asked innocently.

"You're pregnant, aren't you?"

"Ah, well, it depends on what you mean by…" but Esme was had already proceeded to bang her head on the table while muttering obscenities.

In the other room, things were taking a similar path.

"You knocked her up, didn't you?" Sirius massaged his temples and looked away from his friend.

"Is it so hard to believe that I can get a girl without impregnating her?"

"Yes."

"You're a cruel, cruel friend."

"You know the irony here? I'm the only marauder not to either betray my friends or knock up someone I barely know, and I spent twelve fucking years in prison!" he yelled.

"Sirius baby, do you need a hug?" Esme called from the kitchen.

"You can hear us in there?"

"Only when you're screaming like a lunatic, darling."

--

"So what do you like better for your dress: pink or yellow?"

"Tonks, dear, we're going down to the Ministry _this afternoon_ so you and Remus can sign some papers. We don't need gowns, and I'm not even going to _mention _the fact that you shouldn't be wearing white." She eyed the puffy white dress draped over Tonks's left arm.

"Oh, are we playing 'irritate the hormonal pregnant lady who can still kick your arse' game again?"

"You don't have the balls."

"Bring it on, midget!" The two girls looked ready to tackle each other when they finally noticed that they were getting the darkest glares from the large group of elderly women surrounding them, including Molly.

"Perhaps we should try a different store…"

"Perhaps we should try a different _country_."

_Many, hours and many, many stores later…_

"We were supposed to meet Remus and Sirius twenty minutes ago," Esme said through grit teeth, fingering the taffeta of her gown.

"Where'd they go anyway?"

"Well, Remus said he needed to go to confession, and Sirius, well you know my husband. When people are in their hour of need he's always there to go along and mock them for their hardships." They gripped hands and apparated. Molly had left them to their own devices long ago, saying that she'd rather not have to be a witness at their inevitable trial.

"Ah, the Ministry! From its corruption to it's…actually, it's just simply corrupted."

"Tonks," Esme said suddenly, stopping her, "are you sure you want to do this?"

"It's not like I have any choice."

"Of course you do! You and Remus can raise a child without getting married! You can give it a loving and supportive home, even if you're not together. In fact, if you _are_ together and don't love each other you'll probably screw the kid up worse than my parents did me!"

"You're parents are dead. And honestly, I do love Remus. I love him so much that I'm willing to spend the rest of my life with him."

"Meh, my parents tried to stop me from getting married. I'm not stopping you."

"You're not my mother…_I hope_."

"C'mon, let's go get you hitched." Confidently, they strode into the small office where an elderly woman and Sirius and Remus sat. The boys both wore simple suits, and looked rather amused at Tonks' poofy white dress and Esme's form-fitting, pale yellow bridesmaid gown.

"All right, let's get this over with," the elderly witch said, sounding bored. "Just sign the papers."

"Don't you need to go through with the ceremony first?"

"Fine. I assume you pledge to love and care for each other and all of that. Let's skip to the 'Does anyone here have any reasons why these two should not be wed?'" She stared pointedly at Esme and Sirius. "Well?"

"There are dozens of reasons why these two shouldn't get married," Sirius shrugged. "You can't tell us to choose just one."

"And we know they love each other," Esme added. "If they want to do this and it turns out to be a mistake, then they have to learn on their own. They're like teenagers; you tell them one thing and they go against it so hard they get hurt. You tell them nothing and they carve their own paths and don't make the same mistake twice."

"I really wish you would stop referring to this as a 'mistake.'" Tonks muttered.

"Sorry love, but we're just being honest."

"Well, if that's all you have to say, you two are officially man and wife." She tapped her wand on their hands, causing a tiny explosion of snow flakes.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?"

--

**A/N: **Good? Bad? Weird? And no need to worry about Snape; he comes back with flying, um, _colors_. Please review!


	2. Chapter 2: Lucky

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **I forgot to mention in chapter one, but this block of chapters (up until four or so) is dedicated to Azrulai!

--

"Another mission accomplished!" Esme said cheerfully as Tonks struggled to push her large skirt into the room. Remus and Sirius stumbled in behind them, both looking thoroughly disturbed.

"Mission, eh?" Both girls flinched at the sound of Mad-Eye's wooden leg. "I see you're doing more than getting captured by Snape." His face came into full view, the bright blue eye whizzing about and the small, black one narrowing threateningly.

"Who told you?" Esme gasped, tripping over the hem of her gown.

"I was at your house when you stumbled in screaming obscenities."

"Oh…"

"Alastor was your guest that day," Molly came in, wiping her hands on a towel. "He wanted to speak to all four of you, but I suppose you all got…distracted." She looked from Tonks to Remus and flinched.

"I wanted to ask if you wanted to assist in rescuing Potter." He jerked his head toward Esme and Tonks. "If the women come along, I won't have to ask the kids for help."

"'_The women'?" _Esme hissed.

"_Let it go."_ Tonks cleared her throat. "We accept." She eyed the boys. Sirius looked ready to run away. "We _all _accept."

"Excellent. Your mission begins tomorrow. If you kill anyone on the way, you will be pleasantly rewarded."

"Like with money?" gasped Tonks.

"More like honor."

"You can't spend honor on beer," she protested.

"You're pregnant. You can't spend _anything _on beer."

--

"Hmm, the last time I was here, I was wearing nothing but leather, and very little of that, I might add," Esme said thoughtfully as Mad-Eye rapped her on the head with his wand, lifting her Disillusionment charm.

"Hi, Esme," Harry's voice came from behind her. Harry always seemed less-than-pleased to see her, but she never knew why. Perhaps it was because she was his father's daughter. But it was more likely because she had a tendency to cause electrical shortages and fires. Well, that was what she thought as she placed a metal bowl into the microwave.

"'Lo Harry! We bring you tidings of great joy!" Harry flinched as the cookware caught fire.

"Mmkay," he said distractedly. "Ron and Hermione aren't here?"

"No, Sirius and I are filling in for them."

"Oh." He sounded, looked, and almost smelled disappointed.

"Try not to look so ecstatic. Got your stuff?"

"Yep! I'm glad to finally leave."

"Smart little boy, you are." She reached up and grabbed a chunk of hair from his scalp.

"Hey!" He rubbed the spot on his head.

"Sorry, we need this for the Polyjuice Potion."

"The what?"

"Go talk to Mad-Eye about it. I have to go drink Essence of You." Harry went over to Mad-Eye while Remus distributed the gurgling potion to Fred, George, Esme, Sirius, Fleur and Mundungus.

They clinked glasses and downed their potions. Esme groaned as her skin began to bubble and Mad-Eye took the last glass, watching her with amusement. Her vision blurred slowly, and she suddenly had the ability to look people in the eye without craning her head up, even if those people were blurry and identical to her.

"Wicked! I'm tall! However, I seem to have lost the ability to see…" she snatched one of the pairs of glasses her father was handing out. "That's better! Now I am like a god."

"Because all gods are scrawny with bad hair," Mad-Eye laughed. "But it's not time for jokes. Sirius, you and Kingsley are flying back together."

"On my bike?" gasped Sirius. He hadn't flown on his bike in _ages._

"No, on thestral." Sirius pouted. "One of the twins is with Arthur, the other's with Remus. Doesn't really matter either way, you're the same person either way."

"Gee, thanks Mad-Eye," George muttered.

"Yeah, really shows you love us," Fred said sarcastically.

"Shut up you lazy buggers. Esmeralda and Nymphadora are also flying together. I thought long and hard over this, and I don't want to regret my decision. That means you stick to the path and do not intentionally piss of the Death Eaters. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," the girls said in unison, exchanging knowing smirks. To them this was reliving the glory days of school, and Mad-Eye was merely another teacher giving them too much power while at the same time attempting to stand in their way.

"Bill and Miss Delacour will also be on thestral because, supposedly, 'Fleur doesn't _like _broomsticks,'" he mocked.

"And _these _are better?!" Sirius cried, attempting to touch the neck of the invisible horse.

"That leaves Harry and Hagrid in the motorbike, and I'll be taking _that," _he gestured toward a brooding Harry in the corner who had to be Mundungus.

"_Thief,"_ Sirius muttered.

"_Sleaze," _Esme coughed.

"_Pervert," _Tonks hissed.

"Pervert?"

She giggled behind her hand, "I'll tell you about it on the ride to Mum's."

"No!" Mad-Eye shouted. "No talking on the ride! You will go straight and silently to your parents' house! Do not do _anything _to attract attention to yourselves, and that includes talking!" He turned away muttering, "You'd swear they'd need a _babysitter._"

"Excuse me?"

"Mount your broomstick, girls!" Giggling, the girls climbed onto Tonks' broom. Esme wrapped her arms tightly around Tonks' waist, winking at what may have been Sirius and Remus. Harry flinched as one of his figures flirted with another, while practically molesting a woman six years his senior at the same time.

"Steady as you go, girls!"

"I can fly a bloody broomstick, Alastor," Tonks laughed, kicking off. They flew through the night, wind rushing past their ears. Both girls cried out with joy, forgetting everything Mad-Eye had said to them.

"Oh it's been years since I've flown like this!"

"Bloody hell, I haven't flown since I was a first year!" Esme tossed her head back, causing her glasses to fly off. "Whoops!" She let go of Tonks' waist, reaching behind her. She cried out as someone grabbed her wrist.

"Got you," cackled a familiar voice. Tonks whipped around just in time to see a half dozen Death Eaters apparate behind them. "Cruci—"

"Not today, Bellatrix!" Esme cried, yanking her wrist out of the woman's grip. They both stumbled on their broomsticks, their balance lost in the scuff. Finally, Bellatrix's grip on her broom slipped and she tumbled off. Esme punched the air in celebration, causing herself to fall of her broom. After a few seconds of free falling, her hand wrapped around the broomstick.

"Pride is a deadly sin, Potter," Esme looked out to see that Bella was in the same position.

"You're supposed to be dead!" Harry's muscles were helping to keep her on the broom, but not for long. She swung a leg out, aiming at Bella's stomach, missing by a foot.

"Can't see too well without these, can you?" She pulled a pair of glasses out of her pocket. She hung by just one hand now. Esme squinted at her figure, pulled her leg back, and hit her directly in the stomach. Bella gasped as the foot hit her, and dropped the hand gripping the broom. Esme could feel the skin on her face and hands bubbling as she watched her enemy plummet to the earth.

Wasting no time, Esme pulled herself back up onto her broom. She realized with a start that as she was hanging, suspended hundreds of feet above the earth, Tonks had been fighting five different Death Eaters, and they were now flying fast and hard towards the earth below them. She looked around, panicked. Almost everyone had disapparated; the only people left were her, Tonks, and one male Death Eater.

"You killed my wife!" he roared, grabbing her from behind.

"Trust me; you're better off without her!" Esme growled, pulling away from his grip.

"But if you want, we can put you with her!" Tonks cried, pushing him off his broom.

"I'll remember your faces! The faces of murderesses!" he shouted as he fell.

"See you in Hell!" Esme laughed as he dropped to the earth. It was at that moment that the girls realized that they were approaching the ground _rather quickly._ Tonks dropped into straddling the broom, jerking it upward, but the pull of the earth was too strong.

"We're lucky we're in a wizarding neighborhood!" Tonks yelled, attempting to steer through the wind.

"'Lucky' isn't quite the word I'd used to describe it!" Esme shouted as the broom, and the girls, hit the empty street.

--


	3. Chapter 3: Marked

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**Dedicated to Azrulai**

--

The girls screamed as the tumbled off of the broom and onto the road. Black tar smashed hard into Esme's head. Pulling herself up, she touched her forehead, feeling blood. "Bloody hell. Tonks, get up, I think I may be injured."

"Yes I'm fine. Thanks for asking." She struggled to her feet and examined Esme's wound. She muttered an incantation and smacked the wand on the tender skin that was covering the wound.

"Ow!" she snapped. "That hurts, you bitch."

"Esme, quiet down!" hissed Tonks. "Someone might…" A light flicked on in one of the houses. Esme's jaw dropped and Tonks looked faint.

"Hear us." A light appeared outside the house. A tall, thin figure slowly moved toward the girls. "Jesus, Allah, Buddha, please don't be a Death Eater," Esme prayed.

They both flinched as the light flashed over them. "Why am I not surprised? Well, I was expecting your father, but you'll do." They looked up, meeting the stern eyes of Minerva McGonagall. She was still dressed in day clothes, despite the impending darkness, and her hair was tied in its typical tight bun.

"My father?"

"He was supposed to arrive here with Fred," she looked off at the skies, "but I suppose you two must have passed them. Has the potion run out, or did neither of you take it?"

"I took it," Esme said, climbing to her feet. Her vision was clearing, and she was swimming in her too-large robes. "So you knew about the plan?"

"Esmeralda," she said sternly, "you may be taking orders from Alastor, but the person leading the Order is the same person who has inherited the title of 'Headmistress.' Now, I have a few questions for you two before I go and owl your Auntie Muriel."

"We were flying to your mum's aunt?" Tonks whispered, looking surprised. Esme narrowed her eyes.

"Yes. Why? Where were you flying?"

"Never mind. You had questions, Professor?"

"Yes. Esmeralda, in what subject were you most proficient in during your education at Hogwarts?"

"I suppose Potions." She grimaced violently, "_That man_ tampered with my grades, though, so my highest marks were in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Severus altered your grades?" she asked curiously. "You should have said something dear. That could have gotten him fired." She turned to Tonks and asked, "What was the reason for your first ever detention?"

"Ohhhh, that's a_ hard _question." She pondered for a moment, "I remember it being an accident….hmm. I believe it was in Potions: I was standing below a rack of ingredients, and the Slytherin boy started insulting me. It was back when my appearance would change with my emotions, and I believe that my hair turned bright red, shot two feet straight up, and shattered the rack. Am I right?"

"Yes, you are correct," she smiled sagely. "Now, let's get you girls inside."

"We may have killed the Lestranges," Esme blurted.

"Oh, really? You'll probably get a medal for that."

"Actually, Rodolphus just fell about fifty feet, and I think Bellatrix may have disapparated mid-fall," Tonks said.

"Killjoy," Esme muttered.

"Well, we can always hope for the best." She ushered the girls into the small house. Esme noticed the lack of pictures or personal items. "We'll wait for your father, Esme, and then you can all leave on the Portkey. It isn't set to leave for another twenty minutes." She left the girls sitting stiffly in what could only be described as a parlor. Esme traced the pattern on a lacey doily as Tonks ran her hand over a gold mirror.

"This doesn't seem like the McGonagall we know," Tonks said softly.

"Seventy-five year old woman with a house full of lace, velvet, and silk? All that's missing are some furry white cats," Esme laughed in her normal voice.

"I heard that!" she snapped from the kitchen.

"Sorry ma'am!" She turned back to Tonks. "Do you think she's really dead?"

She snorted, "Are you kidding? The only person who could take someone like _that _down is someone of equal or greater insanity," she looked over Esme, "and sorry darling, but you just don't fly."

"She wants me dead, Tonks."

"She wants me dead too, and do you hear me complaining? I'm her fucking niece!"

"Lucius," Esme said, feeling faraway, "the man who raised me, wants me dead too."

"Hey! Now's not the time for you to start moping about the people who want your head on a platter!"

"Thank you for that image."

"You are welcome. You know what? You've got to toughen up. Weakness doesn't work with you! Honestly! You took a broken man's spirit and you molded it into the perfect husband! You frighten the majority of French people! You took a woman who's got to have at least twenty pounds on you in a fight and you kicked her arse!"

"Yeah, I am pretty awesome," Esme said proudly. "I think I heard Dad get in, let's go out and kill some Death Eaters!"

"I think your mother would prefer it if you went home for dinner." Arthur walked into the room, a slow smile curling over his lips.

"Daddy!" Esme jumped out of her seats and into his arms. "I was so…well, I wasn't really _worried_, I knew you'd be okay."

"And I never have to worry about my girl, I suppose," he laughed. "After hearing that speech of yours…" He looked over at Tonks.

"Come on, you lot! We've got to go _now_." Fred dashed into the room.

"Oh, Freddy!" Esme cooed, leaping up to hug him.

"Stop for now, Esme. We've really got to go!" They sprinted out back, each taking hold of an old bottle.

"On the count of three," Arthur said calmly. "One, two, three!"

Esme felt like a hook had been pierced through her navel while she was extremely drunk. The world whirled around her, colors blending and bending. She was going to throw up. There was absolutely no way she could keep….it….down…..

And the next thing she knew, she was lying on the grass outside the Burrow, feeling completely fine. "I fucking _hate _Portkeys!" She groaned and rolled over onto her back. All four of them lay there in complete silence.

"All of you get in here, now!" Molly's voice rang through the emptiness. She sounded panicked, which was an uncommon emotion to see in a mother of eight. Slowly, everyone rose to their feet, Arthur muttering, "I'm too old for this." They staggered inside, each displaying their own version of exhaustion.

Arthur was the first to realize that something was wrong. A small group of people was clustered around a sofa. Hagrid and Harry were there, standing back a bit, and Remus stood by Molly's side, holding something small and pale. George wasn't there.

"George!" Arthur shouted, running to the sofa. Remus opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and walked over to Tonks' side.

"Georgie?" Esme whispered, walking over to the couch. When she caught sight of him; covered in blood and barely breathing, she fell to her collapsed at the foot of the couch, shaking. "My favorite little brother…."

"Esme…." He whispered.

"Oh, George, whatever it is, speak to me!"

"You're….you're crushing my leg."

"Oh I am not. Now say something deep."

"I don't think we need to check if it's her," Remus whispered to Tonks. Molly sobbed and hugged her son, Tonks kissed her husband, and two grown men crashed into the backyard.

"Wow! Thestrals do _not _fly like broomsticks or motorbikes! Remember that for the future, Esme, it may be important," Esme jumped hearing the familiar voice coming from the back of the room.

"Sirius! Oh thank goodness you're alive!" She kissed him passionately, but then pulled back and swatted him in the chest. "I have to prove you're not a Death Eater! Now, what's a question only you would know?" She stood back, looking thoughtful. "Ooh! I got it! Just what is tattooed on my inner thigh?"

Molly's jaw dropped and Arthur's eyebrows went up. Remus cocked an eyebrow at Tonks who smiled knowingly and nodded. Fred and George laughed audibly and even Kingsley smiled. Harry looked nauseous and Hagrid looked awkward.

"Um, well," he sputtered, "I think we should wait until your mum fixes George's head, don't you think? He does seem to be bleeding quite a lot."

"No, no, it can wait for this," George propped himself up on his elbows and, even though half of his face was covered in blood, Sirius could still see him smirk.

"Really, Esme, isn't there any other question you could ask me? What about what I said on the day I proposed to you? No one knows _that_."

"Are you kidding? That restaurant was completely silent when you gave your sweet little speech," Esme smiled, remembering. "However, since I never agreed to that ménage a trois idea, you should be the only person who's seen that tattoo. Well, you and Tonks," she nodded towards her friend, "but that's a completely different story."

"If you answer her question," Tonks said tantalizingly, "I'll get Remus to tell everyone what's on the small of my back!"

"You know, Sirius," Remus, the voice of reason, spoke, "you don't _have _to answer her question. I'm sure I know one from our days at school."

"Shut up, Remus," the girls said together.

"I really don't have any choice, do I?" Esme shook her head slowly. "Alright," he turned around, "I can't face your parents while I say this: The tattoo on Esme's inner thigh is—"

"Harry!" Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were rushing down the stairs. "Oh, we're so glad to see you!"

"Hey, what's wrong with—?"

"Shhh!" Everyone shushed Ron and turned their attention back to Sirius.

"The tattoo on Esme's inner thigh is my prison number…"

"That's not that bad," Hermione said kindly.

"Wait for it," Tonks said, smiling.

"Combined with the phrase, 'Property of Sirius Orion Black. All trespassers will be shot.'"

The silence was definitely cringe-worthy, as Remus whispered tersely, "At least you know she's loyal," before bursting out laughing.

"I wouldn't be laughing so hard, lover-boy," Sirius smirked. "As I recall, you were sworn, by your girlfriend, to tell what's tattooed on the small of _her _back."

"It's from school!" Tonks giggled.

"Well, I've always kept up the bargains that my friends make." He sighed, "It's a little arrow with the words, 'Stick it in here, and trust me, you'll wake up without it.'"

"It was a _bitch_ to put on myself!" Tonks squealed.

--


	4. Chapter 4: Special

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

--

"I can't do this, sir," Snape whispered, his voice hardly audible. He was in Dumbledore's office. Several gold instruments whizzed and whirred around him. It was sunny, but the curtains were shut, shutting the room in a ghostly darkness. "I'll never be able to face her again. She can't come back."

"She has to, Severus," sharp and cold, Dumbledore's voice seemed to sound from out of nowhere. "You don't understand what could happen with her gone."

"You're right!" Snape growled. "I don't understand why she needs to be here because you won't tell me!" Dumbledore stayed silent. "I mean, she's no one important. The fate of the school doesn't rest in her hands. She's nothing special."

"She's special to you, Severus."

--

"Sooo, Harry's birthday party's tonight," Esme said, nervously twisting the black armband on her bicep. She wasn't sure why she kept it on; she and Mad-Eye hadn't been close, hell, you could even say they hated each other. He'd been one of the few who couldn't forgive her for her lineage, and she couldn't forgive _him _for _that. _However, once Tonks heard the news she'd collapsed into silence, and knitting the armbands had been her way to cope. She didn't need any more stress, what with the baby on the way.

"You have a gift for him, _right?_" Sirius looked up from the large pile of papers that he was dealing with to smirk at his wife.

"I do, in fact, have a gift," she smirked back.

"Oh really? And it's not just the admittance that you two are siblings, right? Because I believe he already knows that."

"_No, _it's something that will give him hours upon hours of happiness!"

"It's not porn, is it?"

"We never had this conversation." Esme wandered around the room and collapsed dramatically into a worn, brown armchair. "I had the oddest dream last night."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It was about Sev—Snape. He was arguing with Dumbledore, he didn't want someone to come back." She shook her head, trying to remember. "The weirdest part was that he was actually _in _Dumbledore's office."

"Well, dreams do tend to mean things. But it's probably just a memory of some sort." He shrugged, "I doubt he could get into Dumbledore's office; the gargoyles wouldn't let Umbridge in…"

"True." She thought for a moment, what was the strange thing about the dream? "Oh, and it was weird. It was like I actually was Snape, but I couldn't see Dumbledore, like I had my back to him, you know?"

"Ooh," Sirius cooed. "Did your scar hurt when you woke up?"

Sirius laughed as Esme walked over to his table and smacked him in the back of the head. "What's all this then?" she said, eyeing the stack of papers littering his desk.

"Just some paperwork."

"Looks like deeds." She thought for a moment, "Giving Harry the old Grimmauld place?"

"I don't want it. He and his little friends will need a place to stay while they're out killing Voldemort."

"You're giving him almost _everything," _Esme whispered as she picked up one of the papers.

"You and he are the only two people in my will. You get my money, he gets my house. He needs my house now. You, on the other hand," he said, turning about and kissing her hand, "do not need my money."

Esme laughed and sat down on his lap, giving him a hug around his neck. "What money? We live with my parents."

"I have a secret stash under my mattress."

"What mattress? We sleep in Charlie's old room during the summer and we spent all of last year living in _that man's _old room."

"We never had this conversation."

--

"Happy birthday!" Esme sang, rather off pitch, as she galloped down the stairs, holding a poorly wrapped gift. She raised an eyebrow at the golden, spherical cake.

"We've already finished the birthday song," Tonks laughed, pulling out a seat for her friend, "_fortunately." _

"Sorry, just wrapping my gift—Hello Hagrid!"

"'Lo Esme," he nodded vaguely in her direction. The group chattered for a few minutes until a streak of silver rushed into the room, forming into a weasel.

"Oh, a weasel. That's original," Esme muttered as it spoke to Molly.

"If he's bringing Scrimgeour we have to leave," Remus said, standing up immediately.

"Scrimgeour?"

"You really have to listen during plot points, Esme," Remus snapped as he pulled Tonks to her feet. "Sorry to leave so fast, I'll explain later…" Then they left. However, their presence was quickly replaced by Arthur and Scrimgeour.

"Hate to gate-crash, but I do need to speak with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Seems they've been left some…odd items in Dumbledore's will."

"Well yes, I suppose there's no harm in letting three teenagers go to speak privately with an elderly man…." With a nod, Scrimgeour and the three teens left the room.

Arthur turned sharply towards Esme, his expression livid, "I know it's not in your personality," he growled, "but in times of war, it's best to be polite to the government so that you may have them on your side."

"I suppose that depends on what the government is doing," she replied coolly. The rest of the table looked uncomfortable. Times were hard, and tension had been high, but Esme and Arthur were close, and no one had seen them act this way before, especially not to each other. They glared at each other for nearly a full two minutes, until Molly finally said, "Enough of that. Sit down. It's better to have family on your side rather than government."

Both of them turned to stare at her for a moment, and Esme snapped, "I don't know, Mum. Seems Percy's doing quite well for himself by just siding with the government."

Without batting an eyelash, Molly replied, "Esmeralda, you're fighting both sides of the argument." Without a sound Esme sat down. An awkward silence filled the room, until Harry, Hermione, and Ron rushed into the room.

"He tried to get us to betray Dumbledore!" Ron gasped.

"Did you?" Sirius inquired.

"Well, no."

"Alright then. Harry, you haven't opened mine or Esme's gift to you yet." The three sat down at the table. Harry reached for the gift nearest to him, the one from Sirius. He opened it to reveal a leather folder filled with papers.

"What is all of this?"

"Deeds." When Harry continued to look confused, he added, "You own my house and all that is in it. You also own my elf."

"Kreacher?"

"Trust me; you'll need the house and you'll need the elf."

"Alright." He opened Esme's gift. "Playwizard Magazine?"

"_Four _Playwizard Magazines." As everyone at the table raised their eyebrows at her, she chirped, "I know what boys like."

--

"Esme," Sirius sang softly in her ear. "It's time to get up."

"No it isn't!" she yelled. It couldn't be before two in the morning.

"Esme," he sang again. "If you don't get up; your mother will kill us."

"Nnngh," she muttered, rolling out of bed. She stretched and began to pull of her pajamas and pull on her dress robes. "Lace me up," she muttered. Her robes were a deep green. The top was strapless and designed like a corset, and they flowed into a wide skirt.

"Where did you get these?" Sirius asked as he tightened the strings on the back of the top.

"Sirius," she said, sounding strangled, "lace me up so I can breathe." He loosened the strings. "It's quite a long story, but let's just say that Tonks and I got them when we were fourth years."

"And they still fit you?" He'd finished with her and was now buttoning up his own dress robes.

"I haven't grown since I was twelve, love."

"Oh, that's disturbing." He glanced at the clock on their bedside table. "Um, Esme? What time were we supposed to be downstairs to greet the guests?"

"Ten. Why, what time is it?"

"Ten-thir—" Before he could finish, Esme was dashing downstairs yelling "Shit!" "Esme, wait! You're not wearing shoes!"

--

"Lovely wedding," Esme said cheerfully, lifting ice back up to the spot where she'd hit her head running into a wall. "Too bad I wasn't conscious for most of it."

"Ah yes," Tonks laughed. "Now, what have you learned about jumping on the banister and attempting to slide down it."

"Don't."

"Wise advice," Sirius laughed, bringing Esme a wine flute of something. "Here, drink this. It'll make your head feel better."

"I don't know, drinking alcohol after I was unconscious for nearly an hour doesn't seem like a good idea."

"You were unconscious?" Bill asked, looking curious as he walked up behind her. "Mum didn't tell me that."

"She didn't want to ruin the ceremony, so she just propped me up in a chair. It's too bad, though. I really wish I could've seen my brother get married."

"You have five other brothers," Tonks laughed, "plus Harry and Draco. I'm sure you'll be able to see at least one of them get married."

"Yeah…"

"And didn't you hear what Mum was saying to Charlie last night?" Bill said smiling. "If he doesn't find a fiancée in the next year, Mum's finding one for him."

The group of young adults laughed and carried on, knowing that this may be their last time to do so. And, like usual, they were right. When the lynx galloped into view, their heads turned and their smiles faded as it spoke, deeply and slowly, _"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

"Who does he mean by 'They'?" Esme muttered.

"Um, Esme?" Bill slowly turned her around.

"Oh. I suppose that would be them."

--


	5. Chapter 5: Party Planning

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

--

"This doesn't look too—ah!" Bellatrix apparated behind Esme and grabbed her by her hair. "Didn't I kill you?" Esme gasped as Bella wound her closer.

"You'd think so, but no. You have failed to end my life. Loser." She released Esme's hair and wrapped her hands around her neck, drawing their bodies close. She whispered, "Now, I shall do to you what you failed to do to me."

"Not today, Bella!" Sirius jumped out from somewhere and yelled, _"Stupefy!" _Esme, temporarily freed, leapt under a table. Coincidentally, her mother was also hiding there.

"Hi Mum." Esme said, brushing bits of grass out of her hair.

"Hello dear. Not fighting?"

"No. Don't you think it would be wiser for everyone to just disapparate to somewhere random and, over a period of several months, slowly come back together?"

"And leave them to ruin my clean house? Absolutely not! Now you get out there and defend the homestead." She gently pushed her (wandless) daughter back into the battle. She got back up on her feat, dusted off her skirt, adjusted her bra, and yelled.

"Hey people! Harry's not here. He and his little friends disapparated like ten minutes ago. Mad-Eye's dead, so you shouldn't bother looking for him. Oh, and if you come any closer to me or any of my other siblings, you'll be brutally murdered by a clan of redheads plus my husband. So, just, go away!"

The Death Eaters, who all seemed to be straight out of Hogwarts and used to obeying Esme, sort of shrunk back. Bella, probably the only one over twenty, was about to be stabbed by Sirius, and she disapparated without another thought. Slowly, they all began to follow suit, some even apologizing before they left. Sirius walked over to Esme.

"That was easy."

"He knew Harry wouldn't be here," Esme said darkly. "He just wanted to show his power. Although, his power does seem to be comprised of idiotic eighteen-year-olds running amok with Bellatrix as their babysitter." Sirius stared at her. "Well he's proved his army's quite large!"

"It doesn't matter their size, it matters their strength. If his whole army's full of nitwits like those, we have nothing to be worried about."

--

But, as it turned out, they _did _have something to be worried about. Every day, new articles appeared in the Daily Prophet: muggle-borns were being taken in for questioning, Harry was wanted for questioning about Dumbledore's death, false biographies were being written about Dumbledore. They hadn't heard from Remus and Tonks or Harry, Ron, and Hermione since the party. Bill and Fleur had left almost immediately. Charlie had gone back to Romania. The twins had been sent a letter telling them to close up their joke shop or it would be "closed up for them." Molly was even thinking of leaving The Burrow and spreading the family out over the island so they wouldn't be such an easy target. Suddenly losing the house wasn't such a problem.

Every day Arthur would come home with more news from the Ministry. Supposedly "vast changes" would be made under the new Minister. Of course, Arthur laughed when he said that, stating that what they meant by "vast changes" was really "mass genocide." When he mentioned he that their golden fountain was going to be demolished to make room for a chair made from the bodies of muggles, Molly had been reduced to tears and everyone else looked mad enough to kill. Molly had taken out her anger and sadness on Sirius and Esme, by cutting their hair to "respectable" lengths.

However, the worst news, for Sirius and Esme that is, came on a warm Friday only five days after the wedding and the attack. Esme had nearly screamed when she woke up to tapping on her window, but was relieved to see that it was only an owl. "Sirius. Sirius, wake up!" She hissed, shaking her sleeping husband.

"Nnngh. Wha' is it?"

"It's an owl! It looks like it's got a letter!" She opened the window, allowing the tawny owl in. "You know, in mythology owls were always thought to bring good news and sunlight." Sirius pulled a pillow over his face.

"No, they…oh, whatever. Who's the letter from?"

"Hogwarts," she whispered, opening it up. She began to read.

"_Dear Valued Hogwarts Professor,_

_Due to Professor Dumbledore's untimely demise, Hogwarts is now under new leadership. With new leadership comes new rules and regulations for both students and professors. Unless it is your desire _not _to return to your post, you shall attend a seminar on these new rules and regulations, and also on the expectations of your new headmaster. A train will be leaving from Platform 9 ¾ on Sunday, August 7__th__. If you do not attend this mandatory seminar you will face repercussions from the new headmaster. _

_Sincerely,_

_Headmaster, S.T. Snape_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

When she finished reading this, Esme actually did scream. She screamed quite loudly. Loudly enough, in fact, to cause her parents, Fred, and George, to dash into the room, wands drawn.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Arthur gasped, looking about the room. "There's no one in here, is there?"

"No, it's worse than that!" Esme cried. She couldn't believe it. It was simply impossible. What idiot would give this man power?

"What is it then?" Molly wheezed, still clutching her chest.

"The new headmaster! It's-it's…"

"Who?" The twins said in unison.

"_Him_," she said in a small voice.

--

"They're coming today," Snape said to the floor. He stood apprehensively in front of Dumbledore's picture. "I don't know what to do, sir. She hates me. I know she does. If you'd seen her eyes that night…." He shuddered.

"Severus," he said in a calming voice, "Esme was a dear friend of yours. She's known you since she was a child, and she had a deep trust in you." He smiled, "And you completely betrayed that trust. She has every right to hate you."

"I betrayed her trust on _your orders! _Can't you just tell me what to say to her?"

"She has every right to hate you," he continued, "but I doubt that she actually does." His blue eyes did that annoying twinkling thing where he seemed to stare right through you into your soul.

"What?"

"I've known Esme since she was a very young child, and though she is the granddaughter of a very evil man, and was raised by two very hateful people, she doesn't have a hateful bone in her body, and her heart is filled only with love."

_Meanwhile, on the train…_

"I hate that man so much!" Esme screamed, practically tearing at her hair. As of late any mention of the school, Dumbledore, or worst of all, Snape; drove her to near insanity. "Dumbledore had so much trust in him, and he just betrayed him! It's like a fucking Shakespeare play, except it's not going to end all 'happily ever after'!"

"You know, Esme, as much as I love hearing you rant, couldn't you find a way to make this work?" Sirius asked.

"No!" she shrieked. "Absolutely not! Wait, what do you mean?"

"Well, you and Snape were close friends, and I'm sure he still likes you—"

"I don't like him."

"Yes, I know that. But he likes you, which means he's less likely to fire us or have us killed. In fact, if you were to show some kindness toward him, he might actually start treating the students fairly."

She looked at her husband long and hard before growling, "_There is no fucking way I am ever going to interact with that man in a positive way. No fucking way." _

Meanwhile, back in Snape's office….

"But what about my relationship with her?"

"There is no relationship!" A grey-haired witch to his left snapped. "She's _married! _And quite happily, I might add. There's no way she'd leave her husband for someone she doesn't even trust!"

"Oh, nonsense Harriet," laughed an old man down on Snape's right. "Women are always wanting more! You can't tire them out!"

"Don't make me come over there, Paul!" The witch, Harriet, growled menacingly.

"Why not? I wouldn't mind," the wizard, evidently called Paul, said lecherously.

Snape turned back to Dumbledore, who met his worried eyes with a twinkling smile. "I've got to lay off the Firewhiskey, sir."

_And, back on the bus…_

"Let's all show up to the meeting drunk!" Esme yelled, popping open a bottle of Firewhiskey.

--

Snape: Finally, I'm back.

Sirius: You were in the last chapter.


	6. Chapter 6: Early Dismissal

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N:** Interesting fact: I started these stories because Sirius was my favorite character and I wanted to put him in a situation where things worked out for him. Now that I've done so, he's become my least favorite character.

--

Snape stepped out of the castle and onto the stone pathway. He'd seen the lights of the train through his window and thought it best to meet the teachers at the gate. After all, there was a good chance that if he stayed in his office, they would light it on fire. He almost smiled when he saw the silhouettes of his old colleagues. However, as they drew closer, he realized something was a bit….off.

"Shnape!" Flitwick slurred. Snape felt his stomach drop. "Sho bad to sheee you!" Snape arched an eyebrow at his behavior, and looked over everyone else. McGonagall and Slughorn seemed to be _flirting, _which was so eerie he thought he might pass out on the spot. Trelawney seemed to be having a long-winded conversation that wasn't really directed at anyone or going anywhere in particular, but that wasn't out of the ordinary. Esme was being completely supported by her husband's arm. Her hair had apparently been cut back into the bob style of her seventh year, so she did strongly resemble her eighteen-year-old self: Bright-eyed, innocent, and very, very drunk. Sirius, on the other hand, looked completely sober.

"They're all drunk, aren't they?" Snape said flatly.

"Yes they are. Someone had a bottle of Firewhiskey on the train, and, well, one thing led to another." He looked fondly over at Esme, who smiled sloppily and vomited on Snape's shoes.

"I thought she could hold her liquor," Snape said coolly, vanishing the vomit with a wave of his wand.

"She brought a _lot _of Firewhiskey," Sirius said tenderly. Esme whiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Snape sneered at her.

"How unprofessional."

"As is murdering your boss," Sirius growled.

"Yes, and I suggest you keep that in mind. It really only works out for some."

"I suppose if your goal was to be alone and hated by all, then yes, it has worked out for you."

"Not everyone hates me!" he protested. It was true, some people still liked him. Not nice people, or people he himself actually liked, but people.

"Oh really? Your master sees you as a dog who's done its trick, all the Death Eaters except Bellatrix are afraid of you, and Bella hates you because you broke up with her in sixth year!" Snape looked at him, completely dumbfounded.

"That's why she doesn't like me?"

"Face it, Snape. You lost your last friend when you left her below the tower, cradling her brother's head." He stroked Esme's hair. From her blissful expression, both men could tell that she didn't know what they were talking about. Actually, there was quite a good chance that she didn't know where she was. "Now," he said icily, "I have to get my wife to bed."

--

Esme woke up with a splitting headache. It felt like an army angry, tap-dancing elves had done the Lindy Hop on her brain in the middle of the night. And all threw up in her mouth for the finale. "Arrrggh, I crave _death._"

"Not on the menu this morning, love," came Sirius' cheerful voice. "Instead we've got toast; Mrs. Potter's patented hangover cure, and a meeting of the damned."

"Good enough." She sipped the steaming drink. "That's good."

"I've given it to everyone who had a bit of 'fun' last night." He shuddered, remembering walking in on McGonagall and Slughorn. Both had been half-naked and, fortunately, completely unconscious. "Come now, it's best not to be late for the meeting. Like your father said, it's a good idea to have authority on our side."

"My father's an idiot. It doesn't work when authority is corrupted."

"You make a good point, dear. However, you are very small, and I am quite strong." He scooped her up and began carrying her to the defensive arts classroom.

"Why does the idea of getting fired bother you so much?" she said, hanging over his shoulder.

"As long as you're here, you're safe. Can't say as much for the rest of us, but really, that doesn't matter to me."

"And neither, it seems, does being prompt," Snape's icy voice hit them like a winter storm. "You're ten minutes late, Black." He looked at Esme, "Blacks." Blue eyes flashed from behind a short veil of black hair.

"You scheming, mental—"

"I suggest you _take your seat _Ms. Black." Sirius led Esme, who was very close to foaming at the mouth, to one of the desks.

Snape stood at the front of the classroom; shoulders back, chin lifted. He had the look of an authority figure one would not want to cross. The professors, on the other hand, looked like rebellious schoolchildren, apathetic until something really irks them. "As I said in my letter," he began (Esme saw McGonagall's jaw tighten and heard Flitwick let out a mutinous hiss), "with new leadership comes new rules. As many of you may have already known, I never supported Dumbledore's leniency with the students." Sirius' hands tightened into fists and Slughorn's eyes narrowed skeptically. "A childish point system held no authority over the older students. Tradition is fine in some cases, but with today's 'Generation X' students, it proves to be utterly useless." McGonagall let out a hearty sniff, which Snape chose to ignore. "Typical infractions such as speaking out of turn, missing curfew, failure to follow the dress code, or misbehavior in the halls will be punished with a week's worth of detentions. The student's second offense will be punished with two weeks of detention, and the third with three. After the third offense, the student shall be suspended indefinitely." A few of the professors looked at him, waiting for him to expand on his speech. When he stayed quiet, chatter broke out.

"That sounds almost reasonable," Sirius whispered.

"Just wait," muttered Esme.

"As I am sure you've noticed," Snape continued after the whispers had subsided, "the Ministry of Magic is also under new leadership. Our new Minister of Magic, Pius Thicknesse, has legalized curses that, at this time last year, would have landed a witch or wizard in Azkaban. Because of this, I am allowing, or perhaps encouraging, you to place the Cruciatus curse on any student who seems to find it quite difficult to behave."

"_My goodness," _McGonagall whispered, lifting her handkerchief to her lips. Sprout turned quite pale and looked as though she might faint. Even Trelawney was looking rather shocked. She clearly hadn't predicted anything like this happening.

"You can't do this!" Esme cried, leaping up.

"Esmeralda," McGonagall said softly, rising to her feet, "please sit down." She turned towards Snape. "Severus. You cannot, in good heart or good mind, believe that _anyone_ in this room would place the Cruciatus curse on a child. No matter how horrible a child may act, we do not lay our hands or our_ wands _on them. I myself do not believe that a child deserves to feel the kind of pain that has been laid on so many of our Order members. I have felt it," she looked at him hard, "you have felt it. No child, in my school, will _ever _feel it."

Snape gave no recognition that he'd heard anything she'd said at all. "Continuing, I have chosen to ban one, single spell. The curse 'Sectumsempra' will not be used in my halls. Any professor found using it will be sacked without trial. Any student will be expelled. It does not matter the post, or the House, the curse will not be used." At that point, the door to the classroom swung open, and in walked two rather frightening people. "Ah, yes, these are the two newest editions to Hogwarts: Alecto," he pointed to a broad-shouldered woman who was currently fluttering her eyelashes at him, "and Amycus Carrow. Alecto will be teaching Muggle Studies, which, I might add, is now a mandatory class for all students. Amycus will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, and will also be in charge of discipline. All students that need to be put in detention will be referred to him. Oh, and Sirius?" He looked at him, smirking.

"What?"

"You will be teaching Transfiguration alongside Minerva." Sirius, who had been expecting to be sacked, sat up.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"_Really?"_

"Would you rather be dismissed?"

"No I'm alright, but thanks for offering."

--


	7. Chapter 7: Pulling a Weasley

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **This little sign-thing: -+-+-+- means that the focus has changed but the scene hasn't. I'm doing a lot with Snape this story, but I'm still generally focused on Esme.

Also, I haven't forgotten about dedications! This next block is dedicated to Meena!

--

The start-of-term feast couldn't have been bleaker if Umbridge had been there. Nearly half of the students were missing due to the new restrictions on Muggle-borns, and those who were there kept looking around longingly for their old friends. The new students looked scared; the atmosphere was anything but friendly and welcoming. Even the _Slytherins _seemed unhappy. Draco Malfoy stared about longingly whilst Crabbe and Goyle watched him intently. They weren't used to their new, introverted leader.

The teachers were an even sadder bunch. Flitwick was uncharacteristically grim-faced and Slughorn seemed almost ethereally pale, looking as though he'd lost quite a bit of weight over the summer. Alecto, who had been seated next to Snape, was attempting to _flirt _with him. Snape, on the other hand, just kept staring at Esme.

After Snape and the Carrows had left the classroom, McGonagall had gathered all of the remaining teachers together. She'd told them that, though they may disagree strongly with Snape's policies, it was safest to follow them. She said that when a war is raging and the soldiers are oppressed, the only thing they could do was take down their enemy from the inside. Then she'd turned to Esme and said very specifically that that did not mean seducing and then murdering Snape. Fortunately, after the meeting, she'd taken Esme aside and told her to do what she had to do.

Unfortunately, Esme had no desire to "do" anything with Snape. At all._ Ever._

-+-+-+-

Snape's dinner was going about as well as everyone else's. He picked at the turkey on his plate, looking around morosely. Unhappy children, a creepy girl who kept running her hands through his hair, and the one woman he wanted was just out of reach. "It's just like school!" he muttered rather loudly, dropping his head into his palms. McGonagall looked at him, concerned.

"Severus? Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

He sighed, "I have to go. Inform them of the new rules, Minerva." He got up and left, passing Esme. She felt the swish of his robes but didn't look back.

Once he got out of the Great Hall, Snape rested his pounding forehead on the cool stone walls.

"Bastard," one of the portraits snarled. He looked up to see a portrait of Esme, in her bridal gown, glaring down at him. The oddest thing was that she was completely alone.

"Where's your husband?" he mumbled. It wasn't uncommon for portraits to go out and visit, but it was still rather odd to see a bride without groom (wedded bliss and all that good stuff should've kept them together).

"He's….visiting. Another painting. But that's not important!" Snape had never seen a portrait blush, but when her cheeks turned pink it became quite clear that it was possible. "You know, Dumbledore told me about you. About how you feel about her. About me," she growled. For some reason she seemed incredibly livid. Women. "You've had a million chances to tell her how you feel and still you haven't."

"Why don't _you_ tell her?" He felt like he'd said something incredibly clever, but the portrait placed her hands at her waist and narrowed her eyes vehemently.

"Why should I?" she pouted.

"You are, um, _her._" This was definitely not the right answer. Her cheeks flared up once more and she folded her arms over her chest in true angry-Esme style.

"So? What difference does it make if she's tells it to herself? What do you think matters more, Snape? If she knows it, or who she hears it from?"

"It doesn't matter either way," he said dejectedly.

"_Or_ maybe you're not so bright."

"You know, the real you isn't so cruel."

"You don't know that."

--

"Okay, we need to get one thing straight: it's been sixteen years since I transfigured anything," Sirius said, placing his hands on his hips and staring down his class of first-years. "But I didn't know anything about the Dark Arts either, and I taught that class for three years. I wasn't really a good teacher, but I can teach you what I taught them. Now, I'm sure all of you are quite curious about Azkaban—" McGonagall yanked him away by his ear.

"Is there nothing else you can do?" she hissed.

"I was never trained to be a teacher! Dumbledore just chose me because I seemed stable!"

"Fine," she sighed, her shoulders sagging. "Why don't I handle the teaching aspect of the class, and you can, um, sort things."

"I can do that."

--

Esme quietly sidestepped into the dim, windowless room in which Muggle Studies was being held. A few of the sixth years turned to look at her, but they were wise enough not to say a word. However, Alecto turned around sharply once she heard the door close and barked, "Professor Black, just what are you doing here?"

She smiled warmly and said, "Well Professor Carrow, I was never able to take a Muggle Studies class because it wasn't one of the requirements to be a teacher." Her voice tensed over the word "requirements." "I wasn't raised by Muggles so I don't know anything about them. I've no class this hour and I'm interested in what you have to say about them."

"Hmph. Alright." She directed her attention toward the sixth years. "None of you have been raised by Muggles, so I can assume that you don't know their true nature. They are despicable creatures, barely even human. They have no culture whatsoever and they live like the wizards and witches of tens of thousands of years ago. Their technology is primitive. Their government is useless. They _are _the source of the problems in today's wizarding world." She flashed that _creepy _smile of hers and asked, "Any questions?"

"I have a question!" Ginny practically punched her hand into the air. "I've been taking Professor Burbage's classes for three years, and she always told us that Muggles had brilliant ways to deal with their lack of magic. She told us about their clever inventions like electricity, mobile phones, and the internet!" Color was slowly creeping up Alecto's face and a muscle jumped in her jaw. "And she said that throughout the world there are Muggle governments that run even smoother than the Ministry of Magic, like the monarchy of Monaco!"

"Miss Weasley I am ashamed that any daughter of a pure-blooded family would think to regurgitate the lies that Professor Charity Burbage dared to tell her. I realize that all of you have been taught shameful falsehoods, but that does not give you the right to contradict your _Ministry appointed _teacher. Do I make myself clear?"

"Well," Ginny snarled, "looking at what the last 'Ministry appointed' person did to us," she clenched her fist, showing the words "I must not disrespect," carved into her left hand, "I'm beginning to wonder whether or not they're able to be trusted."

"Miss Weasley! Are you challenging the discipline skills of the wonderful Dolores Umbridge?" Alecto's large, square face was slowly turning deep purple.

"She lied to us too, you know. But at least she didn't hide behind the title of 'professor.'"

"Detention, Miss Weasley." She smiled again, her teeth glinting like razors. "Please report to my brother's classroom this evening."

Esme, who had been taking notes this whole time, suddenly looked up, her brow furrowed. There was something in that smile that she definitely did not like.

--

"….but I guess she doesn't want the younger students to know about Azkaban right yet, so for now I'm in charge of sorting things," Sirius finished proudly.

"What does she have that you need to sort?"

"I dunno. How was your day?" Sirius stretched out on the bed next to his wife.

"It was alright. The upper-level Potions classes are tiny this year, what with so many Muggle borns gone. And I sat in on the sixth-year Muggle Studies class during one of my free periods."

"What was it like?"

"It's really bad, Siri. The Alecto woman is telling them all this crap about how Muggles are barely a step up from animals and how they're the cause of all of the wizarding world's problems."

"God. Really?"

"Yeah, and it doesn't so much bother me that she's telling it to the upper years; they already know better and have dozens of reasons not to trust anyone who's been appointed by the Ministry. What really bothers me is that most of the younger kids have never been around Muggles in their entire lives. They're going to hear all of the lies Alecto's feeding them and grow up believing that Muggles should be treated like slaves, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"You know, that's not true. What if we were to start our own underground Muggle Studies class?"

"Are you out of your mind?!" Esme hissed, sitting up straight. "That's so ridiculously dangerous! We could get fired! We could get sent to Azkaban! Do you want that? Hell, they might just kill us the moment they find out!" Suddenly she smiled. "Let's do it. But who's going to teach?" Sirius stared at her pointedly. "Me? Are you kidding? I was raised by the _Malfoys, _Siri. I don't know the first thing about Muggles."

He sighed, "You're right. And most of the professors here were raised in wizarding families."

"Except for _him_." Esme snarled. She was still unwilling to say Snape's name. It would not happen.

"True, but I doubt Snape would be willing to teach an illegal, underground Muggle Studies class. Hell, I doubt anyone who knows enough about the subject would be stupid enough to teach it." Esme smiled again, this time even wider. "What?"

"Didn't _you _take an OWL in Muggle Studies?"

He gasped, and then smiled back at her. "You're right! That was my highest mark!" He leapt off of the bed, "I can finally be useful!" he cheered. Esme smirked at him, but it melted away into a pout.

"We still don't know what to do about Snape," she said sadly. "There's got to be someway to take our revenge."

"Esmeralda I am surprised at you!" Sirius admonished, placing his hands on his hips out of mock anger. "You are the daughter of a Marauder, the wife of a Marauder, and Fred and George Weasley are your _brothers. _If anyone knows how to take revenge, it should be you."

"That's it!" she shrieked, jumping into the air, her face flushed with anticipation.

"What's it?"

"I'm going to pull a Weasley!"

--

**A/N: **Originally I was going to go with "Do a Weasley" which is the actual line in OotP, but somehow that just felt like too much of a double-entendre.

Sirius: Oh this will not go well…

Esme: Excuse me? When have my plans _not _gone awesomely?

Snape: That is true. However, may I discourage you from—?

Esme: Ah! You are _not _welcome here, mister. From here on out, you are banished from the mini-dialogues!

Snape: Fine. I'll just…spend my time with the giant squid!


	8. Chapter 8: How it Begins

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **I'm not quite sure whether or not it said it in the books, but Ginny is taking DADA, Muggle Studies, Transfiguration, and Potions as some of her N.E.W.T.s.

--

"I'm going to pull a Weasley!" Esme shrieked. She looked at Sirius expectantly and he stared back in a sort of stunned awe.

"I'm sorry," he said faintly, still looking rather bewildered, "what did you just say you're going to do?"

"Pull a Weasley. You know," he shook his head. "Well, do you remember when Umbridge was here?"

"Quite well, thank you," he said through grit teeth. Dolores Umbridge was one of the few Ministry officials who didn't even offer an apology to Sirius after he was proven innocent. She'd also been the one who monitored his classes with the hope that he'd do something disapproved of by the Ministry and eventually led to his and Esme's dismissal. Well, the dismissal part had been mostly Esme's fault, but if not for Umbridge, she wouldn't have done what led to them getting sacked anyway. "What about her?"

"Well, you know how Fred and George let off all those fireworks and created swamp right before they escaped, right?"

"Yes…" he said slowly, remembering the incidents that led up to the re-legalization of physical punishments at Hogwarts.

"Well," she said tactically, "I was thinking of doing something like that. Especially since I, being there dear older sister, have first hand on their merchandise." Her blue eyes glinted in the candlelight.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Sirius cried. "We'll get sacked! We'll get sent to Azkaban! We'll more than likely get killed!" He paused to think, "Although, overall, I do rather like the plan. What do we need to do first?"

Esme grinned; she loved it when Sirius agreed to everything she said. "You need to make sure we have strong alliances with McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout. Don't trust Slughorn and do _not _breathe a word of this to Hagrid. That man cannot keep a secret." Sirius nodded. "I am going to write some boys about some pranks."

--

"Alright," Esme said, overlooking her sixth years, "now I'm sure you've heard other students talk about the Felix Felicis potion, and I'm sure you all know the rules. You can't use it for tests, sporting events, et cetera. It's quite a difficult potion but I'm sure..." It was about a week and a half later, and Esme looked away from the board where she was writing the ingredients and instructions and over at the class. Her eyes immediately focused in on Ginny, who was sporting a black eye, as well as a few bruises around her collarbone. She'd seen a few other kids looking banged up, and it was beginning to bother her. "I'm sure you all can handle it," she finished faintly.

As the students began to brew their liquid luck, Esme marched straight over to Ginny's work table. Luna smiled at her warmly, and Esme noticed a dark splotch near the back of her neck. "Come with me, little redheaded girl," she hissed and stalked out of the dungeon. Ginny obediently followed her sister.

"Sit," Esme said, pointing at the ground. She pulled out a small jar of cream and rubbed it all over the black eye. The cream absorbed and the skin slowly returned to its original color. "Now, explain."

"Well, you were there when Alecto gave me detention with Amycus," Ginny tried to explain. Her cheeks flushed red and she didn't look straight at Esme.

"A _teacher _did this to you?" She clenched her teeth and the vein in her right temple began pulsing and a muscle in her cheek started to jump. Ginny had only seen her sister mad beyond the point of screaming once before, and it had not turned out well.

"Esme, wait, it's not—"

"Do _not _finish that sentence, little girl. 'A professor shall never lay hands on a child,' is _the _number one rule in Hogwarts history. It was the first rule the four founders came up with that they all agreed on," she said factually. "It is written in stone!" That was partly true. Legend stated that Godric Gryffindor had taken a large slab of stone and carved all of the rules into it. Not that the stone had ever been found or anything…

"Amycus didn't hit me, Esme," Ginny whispered. The vein in Esme's forehead returned to a normal size and the muscle stopped jumping.

"Oh, okay," she said calmly, her eyes softening. "What happened?"

"It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, about that, if you don't tell me, I'll write to Mum. When she finds out that you're covered in bruises she'll have you out of here faster than you can say, 'I ran into a doorknob.'"

"Fine," she sighed and looked away from her sister. "Amycus's style of detention is….different. He lets his upper-level students punish the kids in detention. As…practice, he calls it."

"In what way?" Esme growled. Ginny muttered something incomprehensible. "Repeat that louder and enunciate."

"The Cruciatus Curse." She braved looking at her sister for just a second. Esme's eye was twitching, the vein in her forehead had begun to throb, her teeth were clenched and she seemed to be trying to stay calm by breathing in a loud, frightening fashion. "Esme?" She wanted to punch someone, and, although she was the nearest target, Ginny probably wasn't the best choice.

"I will kill that man," she muttered, a flush rising in her cheeks while her nails dug so deep into her palms that her knuckles turned white. "I will kill him in the most violent way I can think of. I will put the sword of Gryffindor through his stomach."

"Esme, I know how much you love fighting pointless battles, but is this really worth getting fired?"

She stared at her younger sister for about a minute, thinking it over. She took in her bruised collarbone and frightened stare. "Yes. Yes it is." She walked back into the dungeon, with Ginny at her heels. Brushing past all of the other students, she burst into Slughorn's office. "Horace," she growled, "I need you to take over my class for today. I'm going to escort Ginny back to the tower, and then I'm going to have a little _talk _with the new headmaster."

"Now, Esme," he said, following her back out into the classroom. "You don't want to do anything _rash_."

"Horace," she turned sharply, "I can fight my own wars."

Ginny and Esme rushed down the halls. They were stopped twice: the first time by a prefect who didn't realize Esme was a professor. Once she'd caught Esme's death stare she looked like she wanted to melt into a wall. The second time was by McGonagall, stepping out of her classroom looking almost panicked. "Esmeralda Black, don't you dare do whatever you're planning on doing," she said, blocking their path.

"How can you know I'm planning something?" Esme said, forcing the calm again. Her heart was racing, she couldn't wait to get a hold of Snape and give him a piece of her mind…or her fist.

"I've known you for twelve years. You have your typical 'I'm about to go light someone on fire' look in your eyes."

"I'm sorry Minerva, but he's gone too far."

"Esme, you'll regret whatever you do. Just let it go!"

"_I can't!" _She yelled. She very badly wanted to hurt somebody. "Why does know one understand that? I can put up with the insults. I can put up with his hatred of my husband. I can put up with the fact that he's pushed me out of a second story window, broken my shoulder, and completely betrayed my trust. I can deal with all of that, but I can't allow him to mess with my family. People who mess with my family _die._" She paused, not sure if she could continue. She took a deep breath and growled, "_Step aside Minerva. _Oh, and could you take Ginny up to Gryffindor Tower?" she asked politely. "I want to finish my tirade and it's sort of out of my way." McGonagall sighed in a defeated sort of way.

"I suppose."

"And Ginny, take this," she handed her a small square of folded paper, and then turned to McGonagall. "You saw nothing."

--

Ginny sat up in her dormitory staring at the letter. She was wondering how the hell Esme could have been stupid enough to leave a paper trail, and who she was going to bring to the meeting. She read it over again.

_Dear Ginny,_

_After seeing your Muggle Studies class, my husband and I believe that you kids deserve better. We're starting our own Muggle Studies class, taught by Sirius, this Saturday at eleven a.m. Invite anyone you don't think will rat us out. We're going to be majorly mad if this turns into another "Dumbledore's Army" fiasco. Burn this letter after you finish reading it._

_Hugs and Kisses,_

_Esme_

Ginny stared at the letter for a few more moments, shrugged, and whispered _"Incendio."_

--

"Argh! Wake up and move you bloody gargoyles! I need to kill that bastard and you're _in my way!_" She kicked one of the large stone gargoyles as hard as she possible could. How had Snape even _gotten _this room? "Bloody hell!"

"Hey, hey, hey! Stop kicking those!" She turned sharply to see Snape, holding what seemed to be a steaming cappuccino. He was staring at her like she'd gone mad. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm….breaking into your office in order to kill you!" She sighed, it had sounded _so _much better in her head. Snape was actually _smirking _at her!

"Care to tell why?" His eyes were dancing. It would have been _so _easy to just reach out and strangle him.

"Do I need a reason?"

"Touché. Still, I'd prefer if you told me why."

"And I should do this because….?"

"Because, if you don't and you take one more step towards me, I'll poor steaming hot cappuccino on you."

"That wouldn't stop me."

"Well then, I suppose I'll just leave you alone with the gargoyles. Unless you tell me what's wrong." He whispered the password to the gargoyles, and they jumped aside. "Come up to my office with me." She followed quietly, but when he attempted to get her to sit down, she exploded.

"Your fucking Death Eater friends have gone too far!" she yelled. After a moment of hesitation, she grabbed his cappuccino and poured it all over his desk.

"You mean even worse than their countless brutal murders and mistreatment of muggles?" Snape said sarcastically, wiping away the mess with a swipe of his wand.

"YES!" she screamed. "They messed with _my _family!"

"They haven't done that before?"

"Your buddy Amycus is encouraging his students to use the Cruciatus Curse on kids in detention!" Snape looked at her, shocked for a second.

"I did say that it would be used as a punishment," he said coolly.

"How can you _do_ this?! How can you stand aside while children are tortured?!"

"Have you ever thought that maybe I just don't give a damn?" Esme stood there, her expression a mix of horror, shock, anger, and crushing depression. Something in Snape's head screamed "Say something you son-of-a-bitch! Rectify the situation! RECTIFY THE SITUATION!" But he just stood there, unable to speak.

"How can you…I can't believe I was ever…I _hate _you!" She stormed out of the office and down the stairs.

"Esme…" he turned toward the wall of portraits, many of which looked completely livid. It seemed like that was the typical emotion of portraits these days. "I said the wrong thing, didn't I?"

"YES!" At least a dozen portraits, including Dumbledore screamed.

--

Esme stormed down the halls, taking points from anyone who dared to cross her path. She didn't take points from _their_ House, of course, she was taking them from Slytherin.

Instead of rushing back to the dungeons, which was really probably the best thing to do, she stalked over to the Transfiguration classroom. She couldn't believe Snape. He'd treated her like trash and she hadn't even gotten one punch in! All that would change in time.

With all of her might she whipped out her wand and blasted the door to the classroom open. Sirius jumped up, his wand drawn and McGonagall clutched her chest. For a moment Esme feared she may have had a heart attack, but from the livid look rising in McGonagall's face, she seemed not to be dying. However, the class of second years couldn't have looked more frightened if Voldemort himself had burst into their class.

"Esmeralda, I command you leave my—!" Esme silenced her with a hand. She turned to Sirius, who was still brandishing his wand like a sword. Icily, she whispered,

"It begins."

--

**A/N: **Thus begins one of many two thousand word or greater chapters!


	9. Chapter 9: Something Like Mutiny

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **The place between insanity and logic? Wisdom. Straddle it.

--

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Snape yelled, banging his head against his desk. It hurt quite a lot.

"No one's disagreeing with you," a skinny blonde witch quipped from her portrait. Her tightly-coiled locks and poisonous smile tended to remind Snape of Rita Skeeter.

"Drusilla!" Dumbledore chastised before addressing Snape. "Severus, you hurt Esme very badly tonight."

"I UNDERSTAND THAT!" he cried. "Now, do you know of any time-turners in the vicinity? I'm thinking I'll go back and beat the living daylights out of my earlier self whilst he's getting his cappuccino."

"Time-travel won't fix your emotional issues, Severus."

"Oh." He paused for a second. How else could her improve this situation? "Well then, if it's alright with you, I think I'll go hang myself."

"Again, suicide won't solve anything." Drat, Dumbledore was going to be infuriating again. "You need to go talk to her."

"But you said suicide wouldn't solve anything," he quipped, smirking lightly.

"You know, I bet if you use your charming wit around her, she'll fall head-over-heels in love with you," the blonde witch, who must have been Drusilla, said sarcastically.

"But that's the problem!" Snape groaned, obviously not getting it. "Every time I talk to her my brain practically falls out halfway through the conversation and I tend to spew hateful sentiments."

"You know, if this woman can make you act like a twelve-year-old and say things like you don't give a damn about whether or not her family is brutally murdered," Drusilla pondered, "then you must be in love." Drusilla was rather young, about Snape's age. Most of the other headmasters on that wall were closer in age to Dumbledore. Snape had to wonder if some group of angry teachers had gone off and murdered her.

"Thanks for the update, I realized that two years ago," he growled.

"Just trying to help."

"It doesn't matter whether or not he's in love with her!" The iron-haired and iron-willed witch Harriet snapped. She reminded Snape very much of McGonagall. "She's _married. _You have to accept that she's staying with her husband and all of this other talk about love is insanity!"

"Wow, that is _depressing,_" he said, running a hand through his hair. "Is there any line I could straddle between insanity and logic?"

"Yes. Dumbledore."

"Well, I don't really want to straddle him…"

"Oh, I've heard that one before," Dumbledore's cheerful laugh broke through the depressing conversation. He beckoned Snape closer. "You're worried about unintentionally hurting Esme again."

"Yes."

"Even though you had every ability to keep yourself from hurting her, and you still do."

"I know, I know! It's just," he sighed. "It's like, when I'm talking to her, everything nice and sweet I want to say to her stays in my head, and the evil part of me prevails! As though there was an Evil-Severus living inside me who doesn't want me to be happy!"

"Perhaps, Severus," he began, "you should just stop thinking about her." Everything going through Snape's mind froze. Stop thinking about Esme? It'd be easier to stop breathing.

"I don't understand."

"Perhaps the only way you can keep Esme safe is to treat her like every other professor. Let her mean nothing to you. You're a good actor, Severus."

"Why?" he protested. "How can you ask me to ignore the woman I love?"

"You need to focus on the task at hand. Hogwarts is depending on you, and so is Harry, and so am I. Don't let us down."

--

Sirius stepped out of his classroom, quickly forcing the door behind him back on its hinges. By now his cheeks were flushed an angry, nervous red, and his silver eyes were narrowed. "What the hell was that about?" he growled in undertone. Esme rolled her eyes.

"I've no idea what you mean."

"You burst into my classroom, blowing up a door, and talking about some kind of 'beginning.' Have you gone insane? And where that hell did you even get a _wand_? The last I heard, Snape—"

"Don't you say that name around me!"

"Fine, _he _had taken your wand and not yet returned it, disabling you in battle!" Esme looked at him, and then at the wand in her hand. She hadn't even remembered that she'd lost her wand; she was acting all on instinct when she pulled it from her robes. Was it hers? It had worked fine; even the wood was still warm in her hand. Where had it come from?

"That's not important," snapped Esme, bringing her confused thoughts to an end. "We must begin our Muggle Studies classes soon and I must make my first attack on _him_—tonight!"

"Oh dear God," Sirius muttered. "What are you going to do?"

"You'll see," Esme sang, flouncing away towards her quarters.

For the rest of the day, Esme formed her idea. Her first attack would be relatively harmless—killing Snape probably wasn't the best idea right now—but it would still send a clear message. And of course, with Fred and George on her side, it could not fail. Now all she had to do was bribe the elves…

That night at dinner, everyone sat down as normal. Esme was calm and quiet, though she did seem to be keeping watch on Snape. This was making Sirius feel _very_ uncomfortable. A few of the students had noticed Esme's fervent stares, and were too watching their headmaster. Ginny looked so nervous she must have thought Esme was going to leap up and put the Cruciatus Curse on him.

Snape was doing his best to ignore the uncomfortable stares. However, he was a little disturbed that his food had yet to arrive. It wasn't all that unusual for food to be a few minutes late—but for the _headmaster_? One of the elves must have fallen into the fire. But, in five minutes time, the food had come and all his worries, along with his appetite, were quenched. Tonight was a delicious selection of vegetables, steak, warm potatoes….He dipped his fork in.

With a bang like a gunshot, the food erupted into fireworks. A few of the closest professors leapt back, covering their heads. The brightly colored flames whistled and popped around the Head Chair. Esme had to stuff her fist in her mouth to keep from giggling.

"What are those?" hissed Sirius as Snape attempted at extinguishing the pyrotechnics.

"Exploding Entrees," she whispered. "Made fresh by Fred and George." Finally giving up on the fireworks, Snape stormed out of the hall, casting a quick glare at Esme. She looked back at him, realizing with a jolt of happiness, that the backs of his robes had caught fire.

--

Esme had attacked the underground Muggle Studies class with a kind of fervor Sirius hadn't seen since she'd beat the living daylights out of Bellatrix. During Potions she'd give directions and spend the rest of the hour scrawling down notes. Unfortunately, most of those notes were things like, _"Electricity was invented by Olivia Newton-John." _So Sirius ended up doing a lot of editing. Still, in just a few days she _had_ managed to get a lot of historically-inaccurate work done.

On the day of the first meeting, Sirius and Esme headed down to breakfast to see a large knot of Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and Ravenclaws huddled together. They looked up excitedly at the two teachers. Snape, standing about ten meters away, grabbed Esme while she was passing. "What the hell are they all doing? What is it they're talking about?"

"Screw off, you bastard," she muttered, yanking her arm away from his grasp.

"She's so brave!" A third-year Ravenclaw boy squealed.

"She's so dumb," a seventh-year Hufflepuff muttered whilst massaging his temples. The girl next to him nodded, obviously wondering how long it would be till her Potions professor was turned over to the Death Eaters.

Esme looked up at the head table, thought better of it, turned on her heel, and began walking out of the Great Hall. "Where are you going?" Snape called after her.

"Gryffindor Tower!"

"Why?" She flipped him the bird in response. Sirius rushed after her. Snape sized up the group of students before yelling "Now scatter!" They all ran out in different directions, each, however heading towards Gryffindor Tower. But Snape didn't bother with them; he knew where they were going. He even had a good idea about why they were going there. Last night he'd found a scrap of paper with _"Renaissance—period of great rains? Must ask Sirius." _scribbled across it.

--

"Okay, so you all know why you're here," Esme said, planting her hands on her hips. After finding the large group of children stuffed into the common room, she'd ushered them down into the Room of Requirement. Inside they'd found what seemed to be a large classroom, with nearly fifty desks and walls lined with books and posters. After Sirius had sat the students alphabetically and made them sign a security covenant, Esme turned to address them.

"Actually, we don't," the blonde Hufflepuff, Hannah Abbot, said. "Ginny just told us to meet in the Great Hall this morning."

"Oh, erm, Sirius! Why don't you tell them why they're here?"

"Well, alright," he walked up to the front of the classroom. "When my wife looked in on one of the new Muggle Studies classes, she learned that Alecto's teaching you kids a lot of falsehoods. We don't want you growing up believing that muggles are stupid animals that aren't fit to lick our boots, so we decided to start our own Muggle Studies class."

At that point, Esme stepped in, "We also disagree on the punishment techniques that Amycus is using on children that earn detentions. Now, all of the older teachers have decided to do as much as possible to keep their students out of detention, but Alecto and Amycus are probably going to do the opposite. There's a good chance that any little screw-up that you make in their classes could put you in detention, and we don't need that. Hopefully this class will be something to look forward to while you undergo Alecto's ignorance. Hopefully it'll be able to keep you from spending your evenings with Amycus. You kids don't deserve that."

A first-year Gryffindor raised his hand. "Excuse me professor, but what exactly are the punishment techniques that you keep talking about?"

Esme seemed unable to answer, so Sirius, eyes clouded, stepped in, "Amycus is encouraging the use of the Cruciatus Curse. It is one of the cruelest curses in the wizarding world. It causes the most intense pain you will ever experience. It's basically several minutes in a living Hell." The younger students paled at the thought, but the description seemed to strengthen the will of the upper-years. Neville Longbottom's hand punched the air. "Yes Neville?"

"How will we know when we're meeting again? Is it going to be like with the," he swallowed, "the DA? Are we going to have some sort of magical coin to tell us when to meet again?"

"Excellent question Neville," Sirius said, causing Neville to break into a smile. "We won't be using any sort of coin or mark to alert you of the meetings. Instead, a few days before are next meeting, Professor McGonagall or I will say something along the lines of 'Anyone meeting for Remedial Transfiguration can come to class' at whatever time the meeting will be held. Of course, you won't be in the Transfiguration room, you'll be in here. Now, is anyone not taking Transfiguration?" No one raised a hand. "Excellent, it's quite a worthy subject to teach." He looked at his watch and said, "Well, it looks like it's about time to go. Class dismissed!"

The students rushed out of the room, talking cheerfully. For once it seemed that something good was finally happening at Hogwarts.

--

As silently as possible, Luna, Neville, and Ginny crept into Snape's office. "_Lumos,"_ Ginny whispered, lighting up the room. "Oh thank heavens, he's not here!"

"One day more to live!" Luna cheered softly.

"He probably wouldn't kill us," Neville rationalized, more to himself than to Luna. "I mean, we'd probably only get expelled or something…"

"Oh, but I'd hate to leave!" Luna gasped. "Everything's so different, and I'm just getting a feel for it."

"Right…"

"Now's not the time!" Ginny hissed. She looked up at the glittering sword, high above their heads. "Lift me up, Neville!" Silently, he bent down so she could climb atop his shoulders. A few of the portraits looked on curiously as Ginny lifted the glass and gingerly took out the sword of Gryffindor. It was surprisingly light.

"Snape's not going to be pleased about this," Drusilla whispered. Ginny's eyes flew wide open at the sound of her voice.

"No," Harriet sighed. "But he's getting what's coming to him."

"We've got to go _now!_" Ginny squeaked. They pushed open the door rushing down the curving stairs towards safety. They were about to relax when they ran straight into Snape; wearing a terry-cloth dressing gown, holding a cappuccino, and raising an eyebrow.

"Miss Weasley," he began, "why are you carrying the sword of Godric Gryffindor?"

"I think the better question, sir, is why are you drinking coffee in the middle of the night?"

--


	10. Chapter 10: Appropriate Punishment

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

--

"_Sit," _he growled, gesturing to the three chairs he'd summoned in front of his desk. _"Stay."_ He began pacing.

"_We're done for!" _Neville whispered to Ginny. She didn't respond, but kept her eyes on Snape.

"What are you going to do?" She asked coolly. "Expel us? Turn us over to Amycus?" Snape flinched noticeably at the name.

"I _should _turn you over to your sister. It'd be an interesting way to get revenge." The three teens eyed one another nervously. Snape was one thing, but Esme was downright _unpleasant _when woken in the middle of the night. In fact the odds were good that she'd simply kill all three of them plus Snape so she'd have no more trouble makers and no more Snape. "However, as I am trying to break myself of the habit of taking revenge on people who have not yet done anything to me, I'll have to find another way to deal with you hoodlums." He took a long drink of cappuccino.

"Plus she sleeps naked, so I doubt she'd be very happy to have you bursting into her room," Ginny said, smirking. Her smirk grew wider when Snape gagged on his coffee. Luna had stuffed her fist in her mouth to keep from laughing.

"Anyway," he said, recovering his composure, "you're still going to be punished. _Severely._"

"By Amycus." Ginny's brown eyes were cold and hard. Her demeanor was beginning to bear a startling resemblance to that of Esme.

"Ginny," Neville hissed, "will you stop encouraging him?!" Luna, on the other hand, just stared peacefully forward, a serene smile playing on her lips.

"Miss Weasley, your friend is correct; it's wise for you to just shut up now." He returned to his pacing. "Who's a step down from your sister in the anger department?"

"Well that would be Hagrid, of course," Luna said calmly.

"Yes, Hagrid!" Ginny cried, leaping up. Neville gestured angrily, trying to get her to sit down. "Turn us over to Hagrid! He'll set us straight!"

"_Fine, _I'll leave you with Hagrid." The three students cheered silently. "But I'm still telling your sister."

"Damn it!"

--

"Ginevra Weasley I am so going to—"

"Kill me?" Ginny smirked at her older sister. It had been a week since she'd broken into Snape's office and stolen the sword. They were already halfway finished with their detentions. Evidently, by her flushed cheeks and clenched fists, Esme had only been recently informed. "Wow, I'm really scared."

"No," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "I'm going to write to Mum."

"You wouldn't dare," she gasped.

"You'd be surprised what I'd be willing to do."

"Well, if you're going to tell her about the break-in, you should probably tell her about the undergr—mmph!" Esme clamped her hand over her younger sibling's mouth.

"_Are you honestly trying to get yourself killed?" _she hissed.

"You are the one who organizes the meetings," Ginny said, shrugging and pulling Esme's hand away. "Anyway, you have nothing to worry about; we're halfway through our punishment with Hagrid. We're excercising the unicorns in the forbidden forest."

"He wouldn't have to exercise them if he'd just let them run free!" A chubby dark-haired girl yelled. She was wearing a button with "Free the Unicorns" flashing in bright purple and gold. Esme and Ginny stared at each other for a few moments, shrugged, and walked off in opposite directions.

--

Autumn went on as peacefully as possible. Ginny had received quite a loud howler a few days after her confrontation with Esme. The Carrow siblings had gotten extremely upset with this, wondering why they weren't chosen to do the punishing but Snape had silenced them with a raise of his eyebrows.

The Muggle Studies classes went on quite well. There had been some close calls where one of the Carrows would catch a late student rushing toward the room, but with the majority of faculty members one their side, the student could say almost anything and have an alibi. During the classes, the talk would be less focused on Muggles and more focused on the outside wizarding world. No one had heard about the break-in until Ginny's howler had arrived, so she was brought up front to tell her side of the story. When asked why she did it, she responded by saying, "That sword was the rightful property of Dumbledore. Why should his murderer have the right to hang it in his office?" Of course, the entire class agreed with her.

As it turned out, Esme and Sirius weren't able to get that much information about the outside world. Every once in a while Esme would receive a letter from Arthur, and if she was able to crack whatever code it was in she could share it with the class. Students with parents in the Ministry new a little bit too, so they could piece together what was going on. The Prophet was no help at all; it was just filled with lies about Dumbledore and his biography, or reasons why Muggles are inferior. Esme began bringing copies of it to class and she and Sirius would point out its flaws. At the end of every class they'd find an interesting way to dispose of it. Typically it'd be burned. One day, the room provided them with a shotgun, so the pinned the newspaper up on the wall and everyone got the chance to shoot Thicknesse's face. Esme called it "Hands-on learning." Flitwick, who had heard the noise while passing, rushed in, and nearly gotten shot, called it "Righteous insanity."

Esme and Snape hadn't spoken since he'd told her off that night, nearly a month ago, and that was fine with them both. Snape had been told by the portraits that he'd "done a very good job" when punishing Neville, Luna, and Ginny. After that he'd thought that maybe he needed to start socializing with living people. Unfortunately, the only living person who had the desire to socialize with him was Alecto. And he was quite frightened of Alecto.

Esme seemed to be in a better mood since she'd stopped seeing Snape. It was nice not being randomly insulted, but being without him felt _strange, _almost like she had lost a limb.They'd been teaching side-by-side for years. Last year they'd even shared the same room! Even over the summers they'd kept in contact by owl; he'd send business-type letters, trying to help her with her lessons. She's send friendly letters with little doodles in the margins, regaling him all about her summer holidays. He was the one who'd walked her down the aisle when Arthur wasn't able. He'd been there when she'd found out that the Malfoys were disowning her. He'd been there when she learned that the Weasleys wanted to adopt her. He was the reason she had a job. He was the reason her husband was still alive. There was no possible way she'd admit it to anyone, but she missed him.

Sort of.

Snape had been missing her too, but for different reasons. Sure, he missed her companionship; she was always a laugh to be around, but he missed other parts of her too. He missed the way she smelled, like a mix of spices and grass and potions ingredients. He missed the feeling he got when she laid her hand on his arm and smiled at him. He missed the way the room seemed to brighten the moment she walked in. Every night, memories ran through his mind: giving her away at the wedding; the time, during her first year teaching, when she just randomly ran up and hugged him as tightly as she could for nearly a full minute; the day she'd told him she loved him. Of course, she hadn't meant it romantically, but he could still remember the loving look in her eyes.

Fortunately, or perhaps, unfortunately, Esme and Snape were about to meet again.

It was a cool day in November. Esme had just finished up in her Muggle Studies class, and she was on cloud nine. The students were doing spectacularly in their understanding of why Muggles, though different, were not inferior. It had taken a lot more to persuade some of them than she'd thought. Now she was planning on spending the rest of the afternoon in the staffroom with one of the books she'd taken from the room, _The Hunchback of Notre Dame. _She'd chosen it because she had the same name as the heroine.

So, she was walking along, her head in the clouds. She was even humming a bit. However, her humming stopped the moment she walked straight into Severus Snape's chest. He cried out, spilling something sticky and bitter all over her scalp.

"Oh, God! You spilled coffee all over me!" she screamed, staring at the cappuccino dripping from her hair.

"Maybe if you paid attention to where you were going, you wouldn't be covered in coffee!" He yelled back. They stared at each other for over a minute, until Snape's lips started twitching. He tried to fight it, but that only made it worse. Soon he was doubled over laughing with his arms wrapped around his stomach.

"What, may I ask, is so funny?" she growled.

"You're covered in skim-milk vanilla-bean cappuccino!" After hearing that, she began laughing just as hard. They laughed for a full ten minutes before Snape regained his composure and realized that she was actually laughing at _him. _"Why are you laughing?"

"You drink skim-milk vanilla-bean cappuccinos!"

"What? They're good!"

"I'm not arguing!" she said, straightening up but still giggling a bit. Then she tapped her head, muttering _"Scourgify." _She turned to glare at him, remembering what he'd said to her. "Why don't you just leave?"

"I could, except you knocked my coffee out of my hands and onto your head." Her response was stony silence. His stomach hurt. "I suppose you aren't interested in an apology."

"No, not really."

"Didn't think so."

"Look Sev—Snape. Neither of us wants to be in this conversation, so why don't you just go off and remake your girly drink, and let me read in peace."

"You won't even listen to my apology?"

"Oh, I'll listen," she said icily. "I just won't give a damn."

--

**A/N: **Please review! I find them lovely!

Snape: You're officially no longer allowed to call this "Humor." My heart is practically shattered!

Sirius: It's also not all that romantic. I mean, I'm the only hot stud, and I'm barely in it! I don't even show up in portraits…:cries:

Esme: You made Sirius cry! You bitch.


	11. Chapter 11: Kind of a Slap in the Face

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **For those who don't know, "Pomona" is Sprout's first name. Asteria Greengrass is also not a character of mine, though I'm not sure if she appears in the books. On JKR's website it says that she's the woman Draco Malfoy marries.

--

"So, are we heading down to your parents' house for Christmas?" Winter had hit hard and fast, with snowstorms coming almost every day. All Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures classes had been canceled, and all students and teachers were forbidden to leave the castle "For their own safety." Many of the professors had theorized quietly that Snape was just using the weather as another way to flaunt the power he had over the school. None of them were brave or stupid enough to voice their theories.

Almost every student was planning on going home for the holidays. A few exceptions were Luna Lovegood, who had been taken home a few weeks earlier, and Ginny and Neville, whose families thought that traveling would be unsafe. Several students with family members in the Order had actually been forbidden to travel or to go to Hogsmeade.

"I don't think we should go, Siri. A lot of students with strong oppositions to the Ministry are staying, and I'd like to keep them out of trouble."

"Well, yeah, but I was hoping we could see Harry."

"Do you honestly think he's going to be there?" Esme laughed, "I mean, that is the number one place that the Death Eaters, I mean 'Ministry officials' would look."

"I guess you're right. But still, don't you want to see your family? Looking at how the year's going, this could be the last time you see them."

"The only people that'll be there are Mum, Dad, and the twins. And they're all pretty tough, Sirius. I think they can take care of themselves."

"I suppose you're right. I can't really see Bellatrix getting the upper hand on your Mum."

--

"Good God, I do no want to go downstairs today," Snape moped to the portraits. Most of the rolled their eyes, a few muttering things about what a coward he was, but Dumbledore leaned in kindly and smiled at him.

"Why ever not, Severus?"

"Well, let's see," he began sardonically. "The Carrows and the majority of students who either fear me or adore me have left to see their families. Downstairs there are vast groups of teenagers who have plenty of reasons to hate me and have probably been planning my death ever since I took over. In addition to them, there are several teachers who would be quite pleased to see me strung up by my neck on the Whomping Willow. It will not be a pleasant holiday."

"Tell me Severus, have you _ever_ had a pleasant holiday?"

"No."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Mostly your's and my father's."

"Now, that's not the spirit! You need to pull yourself up by your bootstraps and socialize! Compliment Pomona on her lovely new robes. Amethyst is quite a color on her. Or tell Minerva how much you like her new spectacles. I think they make her look _ravishing_." Snape stared for a moment at Dumbledore, and then at the cappuccino in his hand.

"I need to stop drinking these things."

--

Christmas Tea was awkward at best. Snape, in an attempt to be whimsical, arranged the tables as they'd been four years ago, when the majority of students had left because of the mass murderer on the grounds. Interestingly enough, today the majority of students were flocking towards that mass murderer. And his wife.

They sat at the opposite end of the table from Snape. The few students left gathered together and chatted about the gifts they'd received. Many of them had spent the past night congregated in their common room, telling stories about their childhoods. Esme hated to admit it, but all of this fear and loathing had certainly brought in a good amount of House spirit.

The teachers were happier than they'd been all year. Flitwick and Hagrid broke a Christmas Cracker to reveal a wizard's hat the size of an armchair. Flitwick, of course, was the one who ended up wearing it. McGonagall, Sinistra, and Sprout were chattering about the newest gossip they'd heard concerning witch starlet Marisa Weslock. Even Trelawney, who had taken the occasion to read a few students' tarot cards, was preaching something other than gloom and doom.

Still, when Esme looked at Snape, her heart plummeted. He was sitting alone, at least four seats away from the nearest person, sadness etched in his features. She knew that this was what he'd earned, nay, deserved, but still, he was alone on Christmas. He looked up and caught her eye, offering a half-smile. She immediately jerked her head away from him, attempting to join the conversation with a half-hearted laugh.

--

The Christmas holidays came to what felt like an abrupt end. The students who had come back were grouchy and unpleasant. The students who'd stayed were grouchy and unpleasant. Several students hadn't returned, Esme noticed, and she was pleased that their grouchy and unpleasantness would be confined to their homes.

It seemed as though the children were sleepwalking through their classes. Throughout the week, Esme had seen students pour quills into their potions and nearly light themselves on fire. Sirius had watched a third-year Hufflepuff turn his goblet into a pillow instead of a teacup. He was mildly impressed.

Fortunately, almost all of the students perked up when they heard McGonagall mention "remedial Transfiguration lessons" at the end of her classes. Unfortunately, for Esme, Sirius had fallen ill at the time.

"You can teach the lesson!" he'd rasped.

"No I can't! I don't know the first thing about muggles!"

"We barely talk about that anyway! Just get them to talk about what they know from the holidays! Now," he said, waving her off, "leave me to my death bed."

Nervously, Esme walked down to the Room of Requirement. Upon entry, she noted that about ten students were missing. "I see a few students have chosen not to return for the new year. Well, not a problem, it's probably their family's choice," she mused. "All right, let's get one thing straight: Sirius, the only person who really knows about muggles, is ill. He won't be joining us today. I don't know a thing about muggles, so today we'll be discussing whatever we learned over the holiday. Yes, Timothy, what did you learn?" She pointed to a tow-headed Hufflepuff.

"I learned why they've banned the use of You-Know-Who's real name."

"Really? Do tell."

"Well, remember like, ten years ago, when everyone was still terrified of him and wouldn't dare say his name? Well, lately everyone isn't so scared of him, and they're willing to say his name. The Death Eaters are worried; they think that if people aren't so afraid of him, they might rise up and take down the Ministry. They think that banning the use of his name will create more fear."

"Interesting tactic. Do you think it'll work?"

"For some it will. Those who actually use it are going to end up in Azkaban, so maybe it's just a way to imprison the brave and leave the fearful."

"That's a great…" the door began to shake, "…observation," Esme finished, all color draining from her face.

"Do we run?" Ginny asked nervously, eyeing the doors that had suddenly appeared at the back of the room.

"Yeah, you should probably run." No one moved, and the door began to shake more violently. "RUN!" She cried, and the students all took off toward the doors. The door exploded, and Alecto and Amycus sprinted in, just in time to see a flash of red hair disappear through the door.

"You!" Alecto laughed hysterically, pushing her wand up under Esme's chin. "Well, I was hoping to catch your husband, but you'll definitely do!" She turned and addressed her brother, "Bind her." Amycus tapped Esme's wrists with his wand, causing ropes to wrap themselves around her. He bent down to do the same to her ankles, but she said smoothly:

"If you bind my ankle's I won't be able to walk to Snape's office. You'll have to carry me."

"How dare you take the name of our headmaster so casually! Cruci—"

"Now Alecto, dear," Amycus said, smiling in a way that made chills run down Esme's spine. "There'll be plenty of time for that on the way to _Azkaban._" He stared at Esme, hoping for a sign of fear. Esme smirked at her.

"You're about as scary as a lampshade, Alecto. You know that?" Alecto only scowled.

Each grabbing an arm, the Carrows began to escort her all the way across the school to Snape's office. Amycus had her upper-arm in such a grip that she believed she may loose blood flow to the arm before the bone snapped. Still, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing pain. Only once they unbound her wrists and through her on the floor of the office did she emote at all.

"What," she growled, using her sore arms to pull her body up off the floor, "the hell do you think you're doing? You think you can just waltz into Dumbledore's office only a couple of months after you've killed him and just assume his position?!" She'd stalked over to Snape's desk, pushing her face within an inch of his. "What gives you that right, huh? What makes you think that you have any power over any one of us? And where do you get off thinking that you can hire that whore and her brother—"

"Esme," Sirius said nervously, glancing at the Carrows. He'd been bound to a cold wooden chair. She silenced him with her hand.

"—and get them to do all your dirty work? This castle has turned into a prison under your watch! Students are getting tortured, and they can't even write home about it because the bloody Ministry is intercepting their mail! My _sister's _afraid to speak up!" she yelled. "Do you know what happens to people who mess with my family? Do you?!"

"Esmeralda," Dumbledore's portrait said warningly. She paused for a moment, swinging around to look at it. He was looking at her sternly, his eyebrows were slightly raised, but his blue eyes still glittered. She looked back at Snape.

"They die! And you _deserve _to die, Snape," she snarled, her voice low and poisonous. "Do you know why? Because you have destroyed the peace of this school, forced my brother and his friends to run away to Merlin-knows-where, and completely betrayed my trust! The tenth circle of Hell is reserved for people like you! How could I ever think you were any more than a criminal and a slave to evil? You know what?" she paused for emphasis. "Fuck you!"

"Ms. Black," Snape said with a forced patience. "Please, shut up!"

Esme glared around the room. Her husband was tied to a chair. Snape was sitting at Dumbledore's desk. Asteria Greengrass was standing quietly in a corner—what was she doing there?—looking taken aback. But what really made Esme's blood boil was Alecto Carrow, sitting in perfect silence, a tiny smirk playing around her lips. Esme turned towards her and, as hard as she could, backhanded her across the face. Then she turned to Asteria:

"Miss Greengrass," she said, smiling calmly. Asteria took a step back. "I suppose you would be the one who told our little secret about remedial Transfiguration." The girl nodded sharply, not looking at Esme. "Well, bravo. I'm sure you'll be greatly rewarded." She looked back at Snape, "Well, I suppose I'll be in my office if I'm needed," she said coolly. She turned to leave.

"Hold it," Snape said from his chair. Esme turned, practically spitting venom. "You cannot possibly believe that I'm going to allow you to _leave._"

"Well, I do."

"Alecto, Amycus," Snape said, rising. "Please escort these students and Mr. Black out of my office. And don't try to listen at the door; I'll know you're out there." The large group left silently, everyone eyeing Esme nervously. After they'd left, Esme marched straight up to the desk.

"What is the meaning of this?" she snapped, looking mad enough to slap him, too.

"You know, I might have let you off with a warning if not for that little 'Fuck you' outburst," he said, matching her tone.

"You mean you're _sacking _me?" she asked incredulously.

"Exactly."

"What? Why?! Where do you get that kind of power?"

"Oh, I don't know, let's see: You've been running underground Muggle Studies classes, have been plotting against the Ministry, not to mention the fact that you assaulted a Ministry appointed professor!"

"I don't deserve to get sacked just for that!" she scoffed.

"Tough," he set his jaw, but something flickered in his icy black eyes. Esme glared at him.

"What's the real reason you need to fire me?"

"Do I really need to repeat—?"

"No," she said softly, her head very close to his, "the _real _reason." His shoulders sagged and he looked her straight in the eye.

"You can't stay here," he whispered.

"I can take on Alecto and Amycus, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not just them, Esme. Some day soon, your little brother's going to arrive here, and with him come Death Eaters."

"So?" she said dismissively.

"You're number two on their list, Esme! Staying here means certain death!"

"The punishments for leaving and not being here when my students need me are a hell of a lot worse than death!" She glared at him, her heart racing. "Look Severus, you can sack me. You can sack my husband. But when the Death Eaters come, we'll be here. And we will fight." Then she turned tail and walked straight out of the room.

When she got downstairs, Sirius was waiting for her, looking almost frightened. Never before had she seen fear in his eyes. "Have we been dismissed?"

"Duh."

"Are we leaving?"

"Are you kidding?" she rolled her eyes. "Snape practically _invited_ me to stay."

--


	12. Chapter 12: An Inappropriate Alias

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **A substantially more serious plot twist is coming up. Not in this chapter but the next. Just warning you…

Also, human transfiguration (in this case) isn't like the Polyjuice Potion, which is why the voice doesn't change.

--

"But don't you think he'll check here?" Sirius leaned in to whisper. They'd packed up their trunks as though they were leaving. Students had turned to beg them to stay, but they'd stayed staring straight ahead. Only McGonagall caught Esme's eye as she passed, seeing that glint of mischief behind her neutral expression. After they were sure they were no longer being followed, Esme and Sirius ducked into the Room of Requirement.

"I'm not worried," Esme shrugged, running her hand over the wood-paneled wall. "He'll be too busy with the students protesting our departure."

"You think rather highly of us," Sirius smirked, eyeing the warm bed covered in a scarlet duvet. His gaze lingered, but then he frowned. "There's still a huge risk of someone bursting in—" At that point McGonagall just about flew into the room, her glasses askew and her strict bun falling out. "…just like that," he finished weakly as Esme clutched her chest.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"You deserve one, you stupid, stupid girl!" McGonagall cried. "You must be completely out of your mind! The moment they find you, and trust me, they will find you, you'll be killed!"

"Minerva you honestly have nothing to worry about," Esme said flippantly.

"Nothing to worry about? Nothing to worry about?! How can you possibly say that?!" Esme shrugged. "Two of my ex-students, neither of whom is known for making the best of choices, are hiding out right under Snape's nose!"

"Exactly!" Esme cried. "It's Snape!"

"Yes, it's Snape! It's the man who's allowing his students to be tortured!"

"That's why we need to stay here!"

"What protection can you honestly be?" she asked coldly. "You have lost your ability to interact with the students. They don't even know you're here, and if they do find out, they could be risking their necks." This seemed to make Esme and Sirius think for a few moments. "And you have no access to food! It's one of the exceptions to Gamp's Law of—"

"Aren't we directly above the kitchens?" Sirius inquired, interrupting her.

"Well, yes, but you're certain to get caught if you go down there! And even if, by some miracle, you do get down there, the house elves are instructed to report any invaders, which now includes you!"

"They won't serve us…." Sirius muttered, looking over Esme's slim, short frame. A light of recognition dawned behind Esme's eyes.

"…but they'd definitely serve a student. Especially," she added, looking over at the set of school robes that now lay on the bed, "a Slytherin."

--

On the outside, the world was bleak. The sacking of Esme and Sirius had sucked the joy and life out of many of the students. At the end of Transfiguration, almost everyone would perk up their ears, hoping to hear the words "Remedial Transfiguration" escape McGonagall's lips. But it never came, and they'd leave class dejected and depressed. Even during Muggle Studies, the students had grown to bite their tongues. Sure, every so often a brave soul would rise and contradict, but they'd be silenced with a slash of the large knife Alecto had come to display during class.

On the first day of February, Esme and Sirius had awoken to cries of joy from the students and cries of horror from the Carrows. Silently, Esme slipped out of bed and pulled on the Slytherin robes that the room had provided. Then she approached the mirror. She'd found a small photo of an already graduated Slytherin girl, Margaret O'Hanlon. The girl was about Esme's height, but with a stronger jaw line, straight blonde hair, and brown eyes. She leaned into the mirror, and pulled out her wand. _Focus_, she thought. _Focus on Margaret. _But what if Snape still recognized her? Would he know her mannerisms and expressions? Or Ginny, what about her? Could she still see her sister in another girl's body? No, she couldn't worry about that now. Slowly, she began the transfiguration.

When she looked up at herself in the mirror, it was clear something had gone, horribly, horribly wrong. Her hair was not only blonde, but also spotted with red and black, making it a horrible color that should not be. Her eyes were murky, with no distinguishable color to them. She also seemed to be built like a male Quidditch player with breasts. But there was no turning back now.

"It'll have to do." She turned towards Sirius, "How do I look?" He recoiled.

"Scary. Very, very scary. Try not to talk to anybody."

"Darling, the only ones who could possibly recognize my voice are Ginny and _him, _and I don't plan on talking to either," she pulled on a pair of clogs and left.

Her heart was absolutely racing. This was the first time more than one person would see her disguise. Following the sound of laughter and cheers, she sprinted down the stairs, towards the kitchen.

"What is going on here?" She turned a sharp corner and smashed right into Snape, who seemed to have just arrived. He stared at her for nearly a full minute, meeting her eyes. Once his began to narrow, she broke the gaze. _There's no possible way he could have recognized me_, she comforted herself as she turned to face the wall and bit back a smile.

"Excuse me miss." She flinched at his call.

"Yes?" Perhaps making her voice high and squeaky and unpleasantly sing-song wasn't the _best_ idea."

"I don't believe I know you."

"Oh, well," she squeaked. "I'm a Slytherin!"

"What's your name?" He was trying to sound pleasant, even conversational, but he wasn't holding back his malice all too well.

"Um…Clarissa. Clarissa McJagersteinamanson." Snape stared at her for at least a minute before she turned and fled, catching sight of the corridor's wall.

"_Bring back the Blacks!" _was scrawled across the wall in what seemed to be crimson and gold spray paint. Esme attempted to push herself through the crowd as a means to get a better view.

"Hey watch it!" someone snapped.

"Sorry," Esme muttered, turning to see Ginny glaring at her. Suddenly, in a very Snape-like manner, her eyes narrowed.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"No. Absolutely not." But as she said that, Ginny went very, very pale.

"Oh my God," she gasped. "Oh my God! You didn't—" Esme shushed her quickly.

"You didn't see anything," Esme hissed.

"Where are you—?" Fortunately, she was cut off by Snape.

"EVERYBODY, BACK TO YOUR DORMITORIES!" he bellowed over the noise.

"You didn't see anything," she repeated before sprinting away from the scene.

--

"We are so screwed!" Esme cried, throwing herself facedown on the bed.

"Who recognized you?" Sirius asked, sounding like he couldn't possibly care less.

"Ginny. And possibly Severus. But definitely Ginny."

"'_Possibly_' Snape?"

"He looked at me for a long time. I think he realized that he'd never seen me as a student before and put two and two together. The name I gave him probably didn't help."

"It doesn't sound like he's a threat to us," Sirius said absently. "What was all the ruckus about?"

"Oh, some people decided they wanted us to be their teachers again…"

"All the excitement was over_ that_?"

"…and they painted it all over a wall."

--

"I don't know what that skank of a teacher taught you all," Alecto growled, "but no Muggle has ever created any sort of work of literature or artwork." It had been a rather difficult two weeks for Alecto; ever since Esme and Sirius had been sacked, students had been challenging everything she said. They'd throw all of the little facts that Sirius had taught them at her every time she opened her mouth. Fortunately for Amycus, this left a lot more students in his detentions.

"Esmeralda Black wasn't a skank!" Neville yelled, standing up. Several students cringed inwardly at his burst of courage. "She was a good and respectable woman and professor—_unlike you."_ That shifted something within Alecto.

"Why you little, you despicable, you _brat!" _She raised her wand to him. "This school would be better without the likes of you." Neville went very white, but instead of sitting back down, he dashed out of the room. Alecto eyed the class dangerously.

"Do anything and trust me, _I will know."_ Then she sprinted after him, leaving the class in a stunned silence.

Because she'd paused to threaten her class, Neville was already several meters ahead of her. She ran like mad, knocking over anyone who dared to block her path. As she tore past the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, Amycus turned just in time to see her, and he joined the chase.

"Who are we chasing?" he panted.

"Longbottom," she growled. They were catching up. All he needed to do was trip and he'd be theirs.

Neville ran like mad up a huge flight of stairs, praying that this would be the one. He knew it was wiser to stay in the flat hallways, where he couldn't trip, but all of the passageways were blocked off and ducking into a classroom was as good an idea as jumping off a cliff. He jumped off the last stair, just in time to hear the whole gigantic structure creak. He turned around to watch it, and the Carrows, swing nearly halfway around the castle. Then he bolted.

He dashed blindly through the halls, not watching for anyone in his way at all until—"Oof!" He crashed into just the right person.

"Ginny?"

"Neville? What're you doing?"

"Running from the Carrows. You?"

"Ditching class." He stared at her, dumbfounded, for a moment, but still continued.

"Look, Ginny, I need a place to hide, really badly. Alecto wants to kill me, and it's only so long 'til they catch up!"

"No worries, I know a place."

"Really?"

"Duh. It should've been the first place you thought of." Suddenly it dawned on him.

"Ohhh!"

--

"Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, they caught us last time…"

"I wouldn't worry," Ginny whispered, wrapping her fingers around the doorknob. "I have a hunch…" she twisted the knob, pulling the door open. They stepped inside, and once the bright light flooded their eyes, both the inhabitants and the invaders screamed bloody murder.

"Oh, Ginny!" Esme gasped, while everyone else just stared, slack-jawed. "You scared me half to death!" Ginny stared at her, too stunned to speak. "Care for some tea?"

--

**A/N: **Plot? Not so happy from here on out.

Sirius: Clarissa McJagersteinamanson?! Dear Merlin, you're worse at making up names than an original character fanfiction author!

**A/N: **And in the next chapter, Sirius gets hit by a truck. Six times.


	13. Chapter 13: The Forbidden Curse

**Typical** **Disclaimers Apply**

--

"I knew it!" Ginny cried. "I knew you were in here! The moment I saw that girl in the halls, I knew she was you!" Her face flushed and she could feel her hands shaking.

"Ginny, I recommend you close that door before I tell you our story," Esme said, raising her eyebrows toward the wide open door.

"Oops, sorry," Ginny shut the door hurriedly. "So what's up? Why were you disguisedas some Slytherin girl skulking about in the halls?"

"It's kind of a long story," both Ginny and Neville raised their eyebrows expectantly. "Alright, alright. You see, Sirius and I needed to get food, and since the house elves are forbidden to do anything for us, I've been using that disguise to sneak food from the kitchen."

"But how—?"

"Self transfiguration. You'll learn it next year," then she added, under her breath, _"if the school's still standing." _After a few moments of awkward, frightened silence, she continued, "So, how'd you know it was me in the halls?"

"Well, _duh,_" Ginny snorted. "Anyone who, like, loves you and knows you and stuff would have seen right through your Slytherin façade! Plus you were walking and talking the same way that you always do: sort of jaunty and with a cool confidence. I was surprised no one else noticed you."

"Wait," Neville interjected. "I don't quite understand. You used a disguise as a means to get food, even though you're in the Room of _Requirement, _which is designed to get you anything you need?"

"The room can't get us food," Sirius said. "And even if it does, we couldn't eat it; it'd be of no nutritional value."

"Why didn't you just ask it for a way to get to food?" Neville inquired. Esme was about to answer ("Well, we hadn't really thought of that.") when a loud clanking noise made them all whip their heads to the back of the room. A large, empty frame had appeared on the back wall, opening slightly to reveal a passageway.

Everyone was stunned silent for a few moments, until Esme said cheerfully, "We can check that out later, but now I'd like to know why you're here."

"Neville was about to be murdered by the Carrows," Ginny responded just as cheerfully.

"Oh really? What'd you do_ right?_"

"I was defending your honor, ma'am. Alecto called you a skank. I couldn't let that stand."

"Oh, Neville!" Esme cried, throwing her arms around him. He stiffened and she pulled away gently, "Sorry." Then she turned towards her sister, "And what about you? Please tell me no one's out to kill you."

"No, well yeah, someone probably is. I was just in the right place at the right time." Both Esme and Sirius narrowed their eyes, obviously believing that _that _was not an exceptional explanation. "Okay, it's more than that." She sighed, "I was ditching class. I was supposed to be with Amycus, but I'm so bloody tired of learning about the 'correct circumstances' in which to use the Cruciatus curse, which is whenever you're fighting someone from the 'other' side. I'm tired of the ignorance, Esme. I couldn't stay there anymore."

Esme sighed, defeated, "Fine. You can stay. But before you celebrate, know that Sirius and I_ will_ keep giving you lessons on whatever we can: Potions, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, the list goes on." She attempted to keep her "strict face" on while they celebrated, but eventually broke into a smile along with her husband.

--

The news of Neville's escape spread like wildfire. In their 'safe' classes (everything but Muggle Studies and DADA) they spoke freely until the professor quieted them; which would sometimes be never. Even in the Carrows' classes they passed notes, flourishing his escape and adding details that no one could have seen. If either professor were to catch them, they'd quickly burn the message and innocently ask, "Note? What note?"

This put several more students in Amycus's detentions.

Neville's rebellion had inspired many to fight against Alecto. However, not too many stories were as successful. Seamus Finnigan had stood up to argue, and had proved unable to outrun her. He'd been tortured horribly. When he was in the bathroom cleaning up his sores, a tiny note had been pressed under the door. It told him to come to the Room of Requirement if he desired safety. Not thinking twice, Seamus had run across the school to the old room.

Rumors of his disappearance had also spread all over the castle. Many theorized he was dead. Fortunately, brighter students realized the occurrence, and soon began flocking to the blank wall in the empty hall. Many brought younger siblings with them.

Soon Esme and Sirius were sharing their room with nearly four dozen teenagers. Sure, they had their privacy; a little room on the side with a lock on the door, but the crowded quarters were leading to high tensions. They attempted to teach the masses, but most students were too distracted by the outside world to learn. Many even wanted to ban together to take down the Carrows and Snape; none of them would accept that that plan would do more harm than good.

They'd learned that the portrait hole led to Hogsmeade, and a lot of students also wanted to climb through it and invade the town; again, not even thinking about the dangers. Neville, who seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, was in charge of bringing in food. However, it was extremely difficult to get food for four dozen and still be discreet about it. Fortunately, for those who whined, saying that they were "starving to death", many of the older, more stressed out students, along with Esme and Sirius, were eating very little.

The worst part was the fighting. The students, of course, attempted to stay calm and kind, but all of the extra pressure of keeping nearly fifty students safe was getting to the adults. During classes, the rising anger between Esme and Sirius was almost tangible. Students were growing increasingly anxious, especially at the times when the two would stand up and leave a meal, walk straight over to their room, and cast a silencing charm. Sometimes they even forgot to cast it, and the kids would hear them fight about nothing almost all through the night. It was terrible to watch two people, who at one time had been so in love, fight like enemies.

One night, after a particularly bad day, Sirius cornered Esme in their room. The day had started out fine; a fifth year Ravenclaw had gone through the portrait hole to get food. The "Grocery Days" as they called them were always better than other days. Everyone loved fresh food. However, the girl hadn't returned today. She wasn't in Hogwarts robes and she was pureblooded, so it was unlikely she'd been kidnapped by anyone more dangerous than her worried aunt, but it still wasn't safe to send another student out there.

The lack of the promised fresh food was making everyone irritable. They'd had to delay Grocery Days before, but those weren't as important as this one. The weather had been bad the day before, when someone was supposed to go out. Now it was pleasant, but they wouldn't have enough food to go around. Come dinnertime, instead of breaking slices of bread and sharing vegetables, people were fighting over who got what and how much. Sirius and Esme settled this by simply giving the younger students, the ones more likely to start sobbing like small children, the larger portions. This left them, along with several older students, with no food, and little energy.

After dinner, Sirius and Esme retired to their private bedchamber.

"Esme," Sirius said cautiously, "I think it's time we left."

"What do you mean?" she turned quickly, a fire igniting in her eyes. She'd made it clear since the beginning that leaving was out of the question.

"I mean, I think these kids would be better off taking care of themselves."

She scrutinized him, looking him straight in the eyes. He looked away. "You're lying to me!" she cried.

"Yes, I'm lying, okay? It's just, I think we'd be better off on our own," he said softly.

"I cannot believe you," she said. "I can't believe you would want to just abandon our students!" she yelled.

"Esme…"

"No! How can you even say that?"

"Like you even care about them!" he snapped. "All you care about is getting your precious revenge on Snape! Well, let me make one thing clear to you: Snape doesn't give a damn about anything we do! He's not your friend Esme! I doubt you even register on his radar!"

"How can you say I don't care?" she shrieked.

"You wanted me to tell the truth," he answered coolly. She stared at him for a few moments, then turned around and stormed out of the smaller room. "Esme, come on!" he yelled, following her into the main room. "You think this is going to help anything?" She stopped at the door and turned to her husband.

"Sirius…" she whispered. "_Die._" Then she stormed into the halls. Ginny stared at her for a moment, her brown eyes wide. She glanced at Sirius, who was already returning to his room. Quietly, she got off her bed and slipped into the corridor.

When the darkness of the halls cast over her, Ginny immediately began to regret her decision. But there was no way she was going back to that room a coward. She glanced around nervously, still not seeing her sister.

Then she heard footsteps.

Her heart almost leaping out of her chest, Ginny ducked behind a wall. She could still see the halls, but no one would be able to see her. She craned her neck, attempting to see the figure. It was too tall to be Esme. If it was McGonagall they'd both be saved. McGonagall would simply calm Esme down and bring her back to the Room of Requirement. But the shoulders were much too broad to be McGonagall. Perhaps Trelawney? But she'd be of no help. Who else could it be? Snape. It could definitely be Snape. And he'd help Esme, wouldn't he? Because he loved her, right? Before she could mull this over, a lamp illuminated the person's face.

_No. Please God no. _

Alecto walked even closer to Ginny's hiding spot. She pressed herself hard against the wall, feeling like her heart was ready to jump out her throat and do a tap dance on the tiles. Alecto was less than a meter away from her, _Jesus, Allah, Buddha, please don't let her— _The footsteps stopped. Ginny nearly screamed when she heard her whisper, _"Lumos." _

_Oh gods, this is _so _not the way I wanted to die. _

Alecto began to walk away, and Ginny's heart finally slowed to a normal pulse. She peeked out from behind the wall, and nearly exploded with fear when she saw Esme, sitting by a wall, defenseless and dejected. Alecto didn't seem to see her though, and turned around, aiming directly towards Ginny.

Esme coughed. The world froze.

"I knew it," Alecto sneered, turning around. The light finally caught on Esme, lighting up her eyes like blue flames.

"And to think, you nearly walked right past me," Esme half-laughed, sounding exhausted.

"I wouldn't be laughing if I were you," Esme just stared at her, smirking. "Quit that smirking! Get up and duel like a real witch!"

"I'm not going to fight you," she said. Ginny could still hear a sad smile in her voice. "I haven't any wand."

"Not going to fight? Fine, then I shall make you beg for mercy," she spat.

"Do as you wish."

"_Crucio!" _Ginny watched her sister's body writhe in the air, doing all she could not to cry out. When the curse was lifted, Esme fell to the ground, looked up at Alecto, and laughed.

"That's all you've got?" Alecto, enraged, repeated the curse, and Esme was nearly torn apart in the air again, but still she didn't cry out or beg. Even as she crouched on the cold floor, she still smiled. "You're nothing but a coward," she rasped. "A coward who—"

"_SECTUMSEMPRA!" _Esme stopped, her eyes trailing down to the wounds opening up across her body. She was no longer smiling. Alecto laughed hysterically, "That wiped the smirk clean off your face, didn't it?" Esme stayed silent, examining her body. "Answer me!" Still, she didn't respond. _"Crucio!" _Tears slipped down Ginny's face as Esme twisted in agony in the air once more, this time blood flying from the holes that the curse had formed.

She didn't get up.

Alecto examined her immobile body with displeasure. She stared at the broken, bleeding creature on the floor, as if she were deep in thought. Then she drew her knife. Ginny screamed inwardly as she lowered the knife to Esme's collarbone, slicing it into the skin and bone, and pulling out to reveal a long gash. Alecto smiled at her work, pleased. Then she walked away, a spring in her step, muttering, "That felt good."

Ginny waited until she was sure Alecto was out of hearing range. Then, with urgency pounding through her veins, she bolted.

--

**A/N: **This would be the serious plot I'm talking about. Please don't flame it until you've read the next few chapters. Oh, but please do review.


	14. Chapter 14: Memories

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **These next few chapters go out to Souless-Tears!

Snape drinks coffee at night and in the afternoon, that's why he's always out of his room to catch people at those times. Also, because this chappie's full of memories this sign: 0o0o0 denotes a fade into, out of, or change in memory.

Here's a curious little note on some of my story stats! (If you could really care less about this, just skip to the actual chapter. I won't mind.) I was just checking them earlier, and, as it turns out, this story is already longer than _Hooray for Not being Dead, Fired, or Eaten, _and it has just as many reviews! And I'm only half-way through it! The only story longer (actually by the time I post this chappie this will be my longest story) is _A Wedding to End All Weddings. _

--

For a moment he thought she was Esme. Dismissing her had nearly torn him apart, and seeing her again could make his life worth living once again. Ever since her dismissal, he'd kept to himself; only leaving his office when necessary and barely speaking to the portraits. All of the troublemakers seemed to have disappeared. He had nothing to do, so he drank. Not enough to leave him sloppy and uninhibited, but enough to make him forget her. His inability to drink seemed to have left with Esme. The house-elves were loyal; they'd get him whatever whiskey or wine he demanded. They were devoted to the school, although the disappearance of one of his favorites, and elf named Dobby, unnerved him slightly.

"Bloody bugger, can't believe him. Open the fucking door!" Ginny screamed, kicking the stone gargoyle guarding Snape's office. She resembled her sister more than ever. Screaming profanities was always one of Esme's favorite activities.

"Miss Weasley," he said, clearing his throat, "why are you outside my office at midnight when no one in that school has seen you for nearly a month?" She turned around sharply, seeming lost for words. He noticed her flushed cheeks and red eyes and began to feel panicked. "What is it? Is someone here? Who did you see?"

She shook her head, finally gasping, "No, no one's here. It's….it's Esme. She was attacked in the halls."

Snape went very, very white. This couldn't be possible. She'd left. Someone else had been attacked. His mouth filled with sawdust. He struggled to speak, finally choking out, "Where?"

"Outside the Room of Requirement. Across the school." He ran off just as she'd done nearly ten minutes earlier. Ginny sprinted to catch up with him. When they were finally shoulder to shoulder he gasped:

"Which curses?"

"Cruciatus, three times and," she took a sharp breath in, "Sectumsempra. Just once."

"Oh God…" They ran more in silence, taking stairs four at a time, pushing over suits of armor, and passing through ghosts, not even feeling the rush of cold over their bodies. They sped around a tight corner and both stopped cold.

There lay Esme's body, bathed in moonlight, white splashed with red, surrounded by black. Even with her back towards them, they could still see blood dripping out of the wounds. Snape walked with a purposeful quiet, as if he believed that stepping too hard would wake her. He leaned down to examine her body. The stones of the castle disconnected and crashed around him. Suits of armor fell. Students and portraits screamed in his ear. Esme wasn't breathing. "Get Madam Pomfrey," he whispered, struggling not to cry. Ginny left wordlessly, taking one last look at her sister and disappearing.

Once Ginny had gone, he knelt over her broken, bleeding body. The song slipped from his lips as he moved his wand over the gashes. A few of the shallower ones healed quickly, but the deepest ones, the ones that had split open first, made no attempt to close. He waved and muttered with more and more fervor, but it led to no avail. Tears came to his eyes, and he lifted his wand for one last time when Madam Pomfrey grabbed his wrist.

"Poppy she's been—" For the first time in months someone looked on him with genuine kindness.

"I know, Severus," she whispered. "Miss Weasley told me." She knelt down next to the body with Snape. "Who did this? Why was she even out here?" She saw that Esme wasn't breathing and waved her wand quickly, _"Anapneo." _Immediately Esme emitted a soft sigh, her chest finally rising and falling.

"She had a fight with Sirius, and she ran out," Ginny explained.

"Is it possible that he did it?" Snape questioned softly.

"No!" Ginny cried. "He'd never hurt her! He loves her!" She recovered her composure, "Anyway, I saw, it was Alecto. She just spotted her and attacked."

Snape dropped his eyes to his palms, and Madame Pomfrey said briskly, "Well, let's not worry about all that now. Ginny, go back to wherever you were staying before you get hurt. Severus, put a Disillusionment charm on her and get her up to the Hospital Wing."

"No," he murmured.

"What?"

"It's the first place they'll look. They'll kill her if they find her. Take her to my office."

They placed the charm and left, Snape cradling Esme in his arms. Ginny returned to the Room of Requirement, where everyone was waiting anxiously. Sirius rose to say something, but she just shook her head sadly and crawled into bed. It was then when they all knew that tonight was probably the last night they'd ever see Esme.

When Madame Pomfrey and Snape reached his office, many of the portraits rose to see what was happening. Snape shook his head and lay Esme down on a soft, gold sofa. Pomfrey shooed him away and summoned curtains to surround the area while she worked.

Snape slid to the floor and placed his head against the cool brick wall. The moment he closed his eyes, memories came rushing at him like a train…

0o0o0

"Isn't she beautiful?" Narcissa Malfoy beamed, showing off her newly adopted baby to a teenage Snape. He looked at her awkwardly.

"Um, yes." He'd never been around babies before. Did they all have that sort of malicious, evil look in their eyes?

"Her mother was died in birth, poor dear. Stayed alive long enough to name her. Didn't even have a husband," she shook her head as if an unwed mother was the most scandalous thing she'd heard of. Then again, knowing Narcissa, it probably was….

0o0o0

"Sorry to call you on such short notice, Sev, but we've just been called away," Lucius said apologetically, attempting to fasten his cloak and kiss his daughter goodbye at the same time. Meanwhile, Narcissa gave him her typical directions.

"Now she's been very energetic lately, so you may want to play outside with her. And she seems awfully fascinated by the peacocks, but keep her away from them. I'm always afraid they'll peck her eyes out," she shivered at the thought.

"Play football with her. She loves football," Lucius said, finally picking his daughter up and handing her to Snape. He'd been babysitting for them ever since she'd been adopted. At first it felt odd, but they didn't have anyone else to go to: Bellatrix was frightening and they weren't speaking to Andromeda. After four years, little Esme pretty much adored him.

Lucius and Narcissa rushed out the door, leaving Esme and Snape is their dust. Snape looked at the little girl in his arms, "You ready to go play?"

"Yeah!" she cried, scrambling down and toddling towards the back door. "Let's go play! Let's go play!" Snape laughed, rushing after her.

It would be nearly eight years until he saw her again.

0o0o0

"Slain, Esmeralda!" A slim, short, dark-haired girl walked calmly up to the Sorting Hat.

_Hmm, _Snape mused silently to himself from the High Table. _She kept her own name. _

"GRYFFINDOR!"

_Oh shit. Lucius will not like this. _

The next day, he'd looked over to see her happily writing a letter to her parents. The pleasant smile on her face and the way she and the other Gryffindors were laughing together nearly broke his heart. When Esme noticed the way he'd been staring, she turned to look back, her eyebrows scrunching together. She scrutinized him for a few moments before turning back to her new friend and shrugging. She hadn't recognized him.

0o0o0

"I have an unfortunate announcement," Dumbledore said grimly, addressing the staff. They'd all been summoned into the staffroom; no reason had been stated. "As many of you know," he looked directly at Snape, "the young, adopted child of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy was recently sorted into Gryffindor." The room stayed silent, everyone uneasy about the direction this was taking. "A few days ago, I received a letter from the Malfoys, asking for the names of the young lady's parents." He paused, "Esmeralda Slain is a both a direct descendant of Marcus Slain and the illegitimate child of James Potter." McGonagall turned rather white and Flitwick gasped audibly. "I expect she will do great things. However," he shook his head sadly, "Lucius Malfoy does not. Earlier today I learned that he had gone to the Ministry and denounced himself as her father. As of nine a.m. this morning, Miss Slain no longer has a family."

"Oh, oh _no,_" Sprout shook her head sadly. "Albus, what are we going to do? How can we tell a child her parents have disowned her?"

"I'm not sure," he said gravely. "Minerva, please bring her down to my office tomorrow afternoon. As her Head of House, I expect you to be there when I give the news," McGonagall nodded sharply. Dumbledore lifted his chin towards Snape, "Severus, I expect you to be there too."

0o0o0

Dumbledore smiled warmly at the scared first year in front of him. The poor dear had practically been shaking when she walked in the door, and now she was biting at her lip and trying not to meet his eyes. "You're not in trouble Esme," he said kindly. "We just called you in here to have a little…chat. About your parents."

"What about them?" she asked nervously.

"Well, Esme your parents were very open with you about your adoption, were they not?"

"Yes?"

"Yes, but neither your parents nor you were aware of your lineage. And that's turned into quite a problem. Perhaps if the Ministry had been upfront about your biological parents, we wouldn't have this problem… but it's not time to point fingers. You see, your father was on the side of the world that was fighting against your parents. He was probably your parents' number one enemy. Esme, your father is James Potter."

"Oh," she said softly. "Why does that matter?"

"Your parents are just so…_strongly opposed _to people like James, that they don't really want to be, oh gods, I can't believe I'm saying this," he gently pinched the bridge of his nose. "Esme, your father has disowned you."

"Oh."

0o0o0

"Esme," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "I'm sure you'll find that I've called you to my office today for a much happier reason than last time."

"I would hope so."

He laughed, "There is so much of your father in you. Esme," he smiled, "we've found a family who would very much like to adopt you."

"Y-you have?" she gasped.

"Yes. You may have met two of their sons: Bill and Charlie…"

"Oh my God," she said, her face splitting into a smile. McGonagall shared a same knowing smile with Snape. "Oh my God!"

0o0o0

"For your final defense…" he flicked his wand and a closet at the back of the room burst open. Esme's eyes widened as a horrible, black dementor floated towards her.

"Well, I thought it seemed rather gloomy in here, but I figured it was just you." She raised her wand, shaking. "E-e-ex…" the creature floated closer. "Expect—Expecto…" It closed in. Lockhart let out a high-pitched squeal and ran to the back of the room. Esme's wand slipped out of her hand as she fell to her knees. The dementor leaned down, its hood pulling back. A thin bit of silver escaped Esme's lips.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!" _Snape yelled, jumping up from the desk. A silver doe burst from his wand. He stared at it; it looked a bit…off. More violent than it had before. Its mouth ripped open and let out a terrible cry. The dementor floated away, back to its closet. Snape flicked his wand again and the doors shut. Then he went to Esme.

Her eyes were staring glassily at the ceiling. Her mouth was open a bit. She looked dead. He lowered himself over her, examining her delicate features. A soft face with a sharp chin. Ears that stuck out. Lord, she even _looked_ like James. He leaned down more and, as if he were performing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, breathed into her pale lips.

Something cold came over him, as if he'd just walked through a ghost. For a second he feared the dementor had gotten out. He'd named him Steve. _No, wait, FOCUS! _But a calm stillness washed over him, and he pulled away and slid Esme's eyelids closed. Lockhart was whimpering in the corner, turned away from the action. No one had seen. He'd send for her parents that evening. She'd live out the rest of her days in St. Mungo's.

"Hey." He turned quickly. Esme was up, pulling herself to her feet, straightening her robes. "What happened?"

"You passed out."

"Oh," she looked around her. "Do I still pass?"

0o0o0

"Albus, there is no possible way that girl can be my apprentice," he said firmly, facing the headmaster with clear determination.

"And why is that, Severus?"

"She's eighteen! Even if she acted her age she's much too young to be a professor! Not to mention the fact that she's rude and blatantly favors the Gryffindors!"

"Well, I think it's a wonderful idea."

"I thought she was going to Switzerland to study with that Von Straus bloke?"

"Severus, knowing Miss Slain, I can say that she is a wonderful choice to teach Potions alongside you. Yes, she may be a bit unpleasant toward the Slytherins, but ever professor favors his or her House a bit more than the others. You of all people should know that." Snape looked down guiltily. "There is no reason why she should not be a teacher, unless, of course, there's something you're not telling me."

"No," he said to the floor, "there's nothing."

0o0o0

The red eyes glared down at him, piercing him to the soul. _"Make it interesting. I want to laugh when I read her obituary." _He felt his heart stop. _Kill her? Kill Esme? I'll be doing it again. I'll be doing it all over again…_

0o0o0

"_You love her." _

"_Yes, I love her!" Snape exploded, "Of course I love her! I've loved her for years, but of course she was always too young and when we began teaching I felt the want to tell her of my feelings every day, but by then I was too old! Then she fell in love with Black and they're getting married, and whenever I think of trying to win her with a Love Potion, every part of me screams because the idea is so horrible and dishonest!"_ Tears came to his eyes and he felt his grip on his emotions falter. _"It's the same thing as with Lily; I didn't say anything about how much I loved her, and then some other idiot married her. Then she died because of me. And now, even if it's not me who does it, the Death Eaters are going to kill her and if I can't love her all I want to do is protect her!" _His voice hitched and the tears spilled onto her cheeks. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't go on and do everything these two old men wanted. He just wanted to stop.

0o0o0

"_I love you Severus." _

"_I love you too—"_ Suddenly another voice ripped across his mind, angry and wild.

"_I hate you!" _she screamed. _I hate you, I hate you, I…_

0o0o0

"SEVERUS!" Madame Pomfrey yelled, shaking his shoulders. He looked up, gasping and muttering. She stared at him: he'd had his hands in his hair and tears had been spilling out onto his cheeks. Along with that, he was pale and exhausted. Severus Snape was not a pretty sight.

"Is she alive?" he asked softly, not wanting to hear the answers.

"Yes," Pomfrey's lips were pressed into a thin line. "But not for long." Before Snape could say anything, she continued, "She's lost too much blood to fully recover without long-term medical help. Not to mention that she was unconscious for so long because her lungs had filled with blood and she very well may have memory loss or brain damage. Severus," she whispered, "she has to go to St. Mungo's."

"She can't go there," he muttered. "They'll find her. They'll kill her."

"You don't the severity of this!" she said in a hushed tone. "If there's an attack she won't stand a chance! If someone were to use the Cruciatus Curse, or Sectumsempra, she'd be killed within the moment! Even if they don't attack for another year, her odds of surviving in battle are nearly zero. They can help her at St. Mungo's, Severus. They'll keep her safe."

"No," he murmured. "If we transport her to St. Mungo's, people will know. And they'll go after her, if only to get to the Weasleys. The best thing to do is to keep her here. Don't let anybody find out about her. If anything, tell them she's dead."

"I can't possibly do that!"

"If people know she's alive," he said, finally looking her in the eye, "the Carrows _will _find out. And they will kill her. And they will kill Sirius. And I can't let that happen."

She nodded, leaving quickly. Once she was gone, Snape walked over to the small body lying on the couch. Deep scars crossed over her face and neck; the rest of her was covered by the nightclothes Pomfrey had summoned. He reached down and stroked her hair, thinking, _How could this have happened? _

"_How could this have happened?" _Suddenly, Lily's voice began chewing away at his mind. _"I'll tell you how this happened. It was you. It was always you. You knew she was here the moment you saw that girl in the halls. But did you say anything? No, not apathetic, couldn't-care-less Snape. You just let her go. And you weren't even surprised to see her. You knew that she'd never leave, not even if you sacked her. But did you care? Of course not! You were only thinking about yourself, and what you wanted! You wanted to be her great protector, and you were supposed to be, too! But look at her now, does she look protected? You've failed her, Severus. Now she's close to death and it's all your fault! In fact, this whole thing is all your fault. It's your fault she stayed at the school after graduation. It's your fault she's so damn stubborn—you just had to be such a strict teacher, didn't you?—and refused to lead the school. It's your fault she started the underground classes. And it's your fault that Alecto used Sectumsempra on her! If only you hadn't invented it. You know she's going to die. And if you can't live without her, then I recommend you do the same._

"No," he whispered, tears trickling down his face again. "It can't be."

--


	15. Chapter 15: No More Second Chances

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **Today, Esme has the sheer joy of meeting the portraits!

--

The sun was rising over the castle, but Esme was still asleep. Snape knew he needed to do something other than watch her, but he felt that if he left, she'd die. There had been times in the night when her breathing had been harsh and labored, but Madam Pomfrey had told him there was nothing he could do. If she died in her sleep, she died in her sleep. That was that.

"Severus," Dumbledore had remained silent until now, "you need to go to breakfast."

"Why bother?" he muttered. "I haven't gone in weeks; they'll be fine without me."

"There have been rumors," he whispered. "Students saw the bloodstains on the floor. They think she's dead. They think you've killed her. You _must_ put in an appearance for them." Snape sighed, protesting would be useless.

"What about Esme?"

"We can watch her," Harriet said kindly. "If anything happens, we'll notify Poppy."

Snape quickly changed into a clean set of robes, took one last look at Esme, and went to the Great Hall. When he got there, it was clear news had spread faster than he'd hoped. He caught a few quick whispers from the students eating breakfast.

"…all these drips leading to his office…"

"…bet it was a student. He's cruel enough…"

"…heard it was a teacher…"

"…guess that's what Hagrid gets for his little party!"

"I heard it was Esme Black!" one outspoken Hufflepuff fifth year shrieked, drawing the attention of almost all the room. The whispers began again.

"Is it true?" McGonagall barely whispered. The teacup in her hands was shaking like mad and her face had gone very, very white.

"Yes," Snape scarcely breathed. He looked down and noticed his hands were shaking too.

"No," she whispered. "No, Severus. No."

"I'll be in my quarters, Minerva," he muttered, throwing down his napkin uselessly.

--

_Meanwhile, in Esme-land…_

Esme stared at the ground. Large planks of wood and concrete littered the earth around her, as if she were standing in the remnants of a bombed village, but everything was blurred around the edges. She looked around, not sure of what to do, where to go. There was a sheep to her left, but it probably wouldn't let her ride it.

"Hey!" She nearly jumped a foot in the air when a voice piped up from behind her. She turned sharply to see a thin, blonde girl of about fifteen with a smatter of freckles over her nose standing behind her.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Aren't you going?" The girl asked impatiently, as if Esme was the stupidest person she'd ever met.

Esme rolled her eyes, "Going where?"

"Duh," the girl laughed. "Going _home!_"

"Oh," Esme shrugged, confused, "I guess so."

"C'mon!" The younger girl led them through the rubble, stepping over the broken glass with ease. After walking for several meters, they hit a dirt path. "It's not far now." She took Esme's hand and they began to sprint down the trail. The girl skidded to a fault just after they'd turned a sharp corner. She was eyeing a figure in the distance.

The figure approached. It was a young woman, about Esme's age. She had flaming red hair and piercing green eyes that flitted over Esme and focused in on the girl. "What are you doing?"

"We're going home!"

"Don't you think you've forgotten something?" Her question stilled the air around Esme. _Did I forget something? I didn't see any bags or anything…_

"She hasn't forgotten anything. We're going home," the girl snapped, but the red-haired woman blocked their path. "Go away!"

"You've forgotten something," she repeated. Then she pointed into the distance behind Esme, "Look!" A silver tiger prowled in the distance, not getting to close to the three women. In his mouth he dangled a tiny diamond necklace. The sheep was strangely gone.

Esme's hand flew to her throat, "My necklace! It's really expensive!" She went forward to grab the heart. The moment she grasped the chain, the ground seemed to fall out from under her, giving way to a totally different world. She closed her eyes as she felt her body fall.

Once the world stopped shaking, Esme opened her eyes and looked about. Instead of being in the village, she was sitting on the cold stone floor of the castle. Everything was sharp, instead of the blurred lines she'd seen before.

"Alecto did quite a number on you, didn't she?" a man said, sounding very close. Esme pulled herself up and walked onto a stone balcony, following the sound of his voice. In front of her was a man with long, silver hair. To his left was a tap-dancing house-elf. Huh.

"Professor Dumbledore?" she asked curiously. He was standing at the edge of the balcony, holding loosely onto the railings. She walked over to him. "What're you doing here?"

"Standing."

"What I mean is, why aren't you dead?"

"I am."

"Oh." She paused, "Am I dead?"

"No," he said placidly. "But it is your choice to wake up."

"My…choice?" He looked over at her, his blue eyes smiling.

"Yes, your choice." He turned away, "You'll soon find out that you have many great choices facing you. And you had better choose quickly, lest someone else make a choice for you." He looked out over the forest. "Or fate. I suppose fate may make some choices for you." Esme stared at him.

"What do you mean by 'choices'? Like choosing not to wake up?"

"Yes. That is exactly what I said. Listen when I talk." he turned around and gave her a full smile. "You have every right to choose to stay in your dreams forever. But I already know what you will choose for that," he added. Esme looked at him quizzically, but he didn't seem to want to elaborate. "A more important choice would be choosing whether or not to forgive Severus. Or maybe you could choose to get that damned elf to stop _dancing._"

"What? I don't understand!" she protested. "Why would I forgive _him_?"

"He saved your life," he said simply.

"Well yeah, what was he going to do—let me die?"

"There are no obligations, Esmeralda."

"He killed you!" Dumbledore turned and stared at her, long and cold. She gripped the railing, but it broke beneath her. She was falling, deep, into the forest below…

She hit the earth floor hard. Her leg was throbbing, that much she knew. Someone was sitting with her, apologizing. She wanted to tell them it would be alright, but the rain stopped her.

--

Esme awoke with icy water dripping down her forehead. She tried to wipe it away, but her arm wouldn't move. She forced herself to sit up, "Aggh!" _Why the hell had that hurt so much?_ It was like her skin was ripping apart.

"Lie down," a voice said calmly. She looked up to meet the eyes of Severus Snape. She lowered herself back onto the pillows and he rested the cloth on her head again. She stared at him; his hair was lank and hung in curtains around his face. Shadows were under his eyes, and under his unbuttoned robes he wore a black muggle shirt and trousers. In short, he looked about as good as she felt, but still he smiled. "Thank God you're awake. You were running a fever, Pomfrey said—well, never mind what she said. There's _so _much you need to know. But first," he got up and picked up a small glass on his desk, "you need to drink this."

She accepted the drink and gently raised it to her lips. Then her eyes narrowed and she dropped the goblet on the floor. "You must think I'm pretty stupid," she laughed hoarsely.

"What?"

"Don't play all innocent with me, 'sir.' You found me. You caught me. You did something to me that makes me ache all over. That still doesn't mean I'm going to let you let me poison myself."

He stared at her in disbelief. "Esme, do you have any memory of anything that happened yesterday?"

She paused for a moment, thinking. "Well, no, but that doesn't make me wrong!"

"No," Snape said, chuckling. "I suppose that's true." His expression darkened a little, "Esme, you were attacked yesterday. I heard most of this from Ginny, but supposedly you had a fight with Sirius and—"

"No!" she rasped. "I don't believe you! Sirius wouldn't hurt me, and why would Ginny come to _you?_"

"Sirius _didn't _hurt you," he said kindly. "Ginny said it was Alecto. She was on hall patrol last night…"

She glared at him, "Why should I trust you?"

"Why shouldn't you?" Even as he said this, he could hear Lily muttering, _"She's going to have a field day with this one." _

"You _killed_ Dumbledore!"

"Esmeralda," she whipped her head around at the sound of Dumbledore's voice. "Treat your new headmaster with the same respect as you treated me."

"But sir—"

"Insolence!" crowed an old man to her right. "How dare she contradict her headmaster!"

"I think she has every right to speak her mind!" a dark-haired witch bearing great resemblance to McGonagall snapped.

"A woman _never _has the right to speak her mind," the man said airily.

"Fausto," a blonde witch (who we already know as Drusilla) said icily. "If you become any more pompous, I shall take you from your frame and feed you to the dragon on the fourth floor."

"_What?" _At least a dozen of the portraits inquired. Esme turned back to Snape.

"You deal with them every day?"

"Yes."

"So much is explained now," she laughed hoarsely. Snape laughed along with her. It felt good to smile again.

"But seriously Esme, drink this," he handed her the repaired goblet with another swill of potion in it.

"No," she growled. "I don't trust you."

"Why not?" he asked again. "Other than because I killed Dumbledore."

"Gee, let me think," she began sarcastically. "You're a Death Eater. You've probably killed people. You betrayed the trust of the _entire _school. You're the reason my brother is risking his life. You're the reason my parents can't work. You're the reason my brother's wedding was massacred!" she was nearly yelling now, her voice crackling under the strain. "It's because of you, Snape, that people all over the country are being killed! _You—_"

"Esme, stop!" he shouted. "I can explain all of this, just please give me a chance!"

"A chance," she scoffed. "You didn't give Dumbledore a chance. You didn't give Harry, Ron, and Hermione a chance. And you sure as hell didn't give me a chance when you attacked me last Christmas!"

--

**A/N: **Shorter than usual, I know. Please still review, I hope the next few chapters are going to be better.


	16. Chapter 16: Misunderstanding

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **Sorry for the lack of updates. My life had been crazy, but it's finally starting to even out. Please still review. I don't think you'll be disappointed with this chapter.

--

Snape turned even paler than usual, resembling a sort of sickly green by this time. For what felt like hours he couldn't say anything. His mouth was filled with sawdust, and it felt like he may vomit if he opened it. Esme, though frail and weak, was glaring at him with enough force to send him off his feet. The snarl of the words was still on her lips, _You sure as hell didn't give me a chance when you attacked me last Christmas! _But it was true. He hadn't given her a chance, and he couldn't explain himself.

"You knew?" he finally stuttered. Her glare deepened, piercing him. The portraits sat silently, watching them with wide eyes.

"I knew?" she laughed hoarsely. "Of course I knew. I wouldn't let myself forget for too long." Her words were less than bullets, more like heat-seeking missiles, ready to take him down with perfect accuracy.

"H-how long?" he choked. She let out a maniacal laugh. For a moment she looked like Bellatrix.

"How long?" she rasped. "Oh, only since you _killed _Dumbledore. Only since the night when you betrayed us all. How many people have you hurt, Severus? How many people have stood in your way, blocking you from becoming You-Know-Who's _favorite_ little Death Eater? And how long as it taken you to get rid of them?"

"Esme, please!" he gasped. "You don't understand this. I—"

"No, how could I possibly understand you?" She pointed at him dramatically. A tiny spot of blood on her arm appeared beneath her nightclothes. "How could anyone possibly understand Severus Snape? Of course, it's not that he's some evil murderer," she simpered, "he's just _misunderstood_."

"Esme—" the spot was growing bigger, but it didn't seem to bother her.

"Poor Severus," she simpered. "He's had such a tough life. So unloved. His daddy picked on him. _My _daddy picked on him." She smiled poisonously, "But I suppose he 'got him back' by betraying him to the Dark Lord." Snape's eyes widened. She had to be feeling pain by now. The stain was larger than his fist. But she just laughed. "Surprised? Of course Harry told me everything. And why shouldn't he?"

"Esme—"

"You had us all fooled, Snape. But I won't be your fool again—"

"Esme you're bleeding!" he finally yelped. She nearly jumped off of the sofa examining herself for a wound. "Here," he muttered, pushing up her sleeve. He pressed the tip of his wand to the gash. After a few lines of the incantation, it was sealed. She looked him in the eyes.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered.

"So you don't pass out again because you won't take the damned Blood Replenishing Potion!" he finally snapped. Esme stared at him, the fire behind her eyes diminishing.

"Why do you even care?" she muttered. "Why rescue me when you so easily let everyone else die? How am I any different?"

"Esme…"

"You didn't care when six teenagers ran away to the Ministry of Magic. You just said I was obligated to go. Everyone in the Order had to go and protect him. I thought you'd be there. I thought you were one of us." She swallowed heavily.

"Esme, that was when I was still playing the double spy. I couldn't go; I'd risk everything. And I knew you could handle it. You always do."

"You _killed _Dumbledore," she repeated, this time at a very strained whisper.

"I know, I did. I didn't have a choice."

"You _always_ have a choice."

"Please," he whispered. "Just let me explain myself." She just looked at him. "It was nearly eighteen years ago. I overheard something I shouldn't have. A private prophecy about a boy who could bring down the Dark Lord. Needless to say, I returned my information to my master. I didn't realize who it pertained to." He looked away, out the window and over the grounds. "In that one action, I completely betrayed someone I loved."

"James?" she asked, sounding very confused. "You loved my dad?"

"No, not James!" he snapped. "Lily! I was in love with Lily! I hated your father."

"So you were glad to see him die?" she asked coldly.

"No, Esme. Absolutely not. I begged the Dark Lord to leave them, that it was some other child. I even turned to Dumbledore, hoping he could offer them some protection. But it was all in vain." He shook his head. "He killed her all the same. Only Harry was left, and I swore to Dumbledore that I would do all that I could to keep him safe."

"And yet he's off somewhere, hiding from Death Eaters."

"Yes," Snape nodded. "I'm not doing a very good job right now. But let me continue. About two years ago, it became clear that Dumbledore was dying." Esme's forehead crinkled, but she didn't say anything. "And the Dark Lord was making it clear that he wanted Draco to kill him. Of course, neither of them knew that, had Draco not been assigned his death, Dumbledore would probably have died in bed sometime that week." Snape shrugged a little, smiling. "But Dumbledore knew about Draco, and he knew he wouldn't be able to finish his task, so he assigned it to me."

Esme stared at him for a nearly a minute. "You're kidding."

"It's the truth," it wasn't Snape who'd spoken, but rather Dumbledore. "Yes, Esme, as strange as it sounds, that's how everything happened."

Esme shook her head, "I really, really wish I moved to Switzerland when I had the chance." Snape just watched her. He couldn't help but wonder if everything may have turned out better if Esme had just disappeared after she graduated. She'd while away the hours in some distant mountain, creating potions under the watchful eye of the famed Gregor von Straus, Potions Master. She'd never be attacked. She'd be safe.

"Do you have any other questions?" Snape asked softly.

"You altered my marks," she murmured.

"What?"

"You altered my marks, you pushed me out a window, and you've always been extraordinarily unkind to me."

"I never altered your marks," Snape said, shaking his head disbelievingly.

"Yes, you did!" she cried hoarsely. "I should have gotten an O in Potions seventh year; I know I past my N.E.W.T. perfectly, but I only received an E! You must have lowered my test score!"

"I would never do that!" he gasped, almost laughing. "Esme, altering a N.E.W.T. could get me fired! You got an E because you barely ever showed up for class!" She stared at him, dumbfounded.

"You were still very cruel," she finally said. Snape stayed silent for several moments, staring out the window.

"You're right," he whispered.

"Yes, I often am. What am I right about this time?"

"Everything. You've been right about everything since you woke up. You can't trust me. I've betrayed the entire Wizarding World. I'm cruel and hateful, and I've always pulled dangerous stunts. Especially with you." He closed his eyes and turned farther away from Esme. "But I had my reasons. I never thought you'd be safe here; there was always going to be some student whose family had been turned apart by your grandfather. There'd always be someone seeking revenge. Even outside of the school, you'd wear your name like the mark of Cain.

"And then came Bellatrix. She's always been more of threat to you than the Dark Lord. He still battles with himself over killing you. He still hopes you'll turn on the Weasleys, come to his side. He wants you to be Marcus, and bow to his command. But Bellatrix, she sees too much of herself in you. Your spirit and your fight. She hates you for being like her. She hates that there's someone else in the world who's as ruthless in battle as her. She and Alecto have been in contact this whole year, trying to bring you down. I dismissed you with the hopes that you might actually leave." He laughed a bit, "I should have known better.

"I've always wanted you out of the country, but not for selfish reasons. I've sworn to protect your brother, that's true. But even more, ever since the day you were Sorted into Gryffindor, I've made it my duty to protect you. You mean more to me than anything else in the world."

"Where are you going with this, Severus?" she whispered. He finally turned and looked at her.

"I love you Esme."

--


	17. Chapter 17: Apologies

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **I rewrote this chapter three times. Please review!!

--

Poppy Pomfrey had been dreading the morning. She'd put it off by heading to breakfast, hoping to be soothed by food, but the whispers in the Great Hall had only increased the knots in her stomach. Alecto's smug face and watching Snape stalk out of the hall, head bent, hadn't helped either.

Sirius had been one of her favorite students. He was often in the infirmary from the constant blowback of his and James' pranks. She'd been shocked when he was sent to Azkaban, and hadn't been surprised when he turned up innocent. Peter Pettigrew seemed much more likely to be a mass murderer. Not that she'd focused too much on that while they were in school, of course. But telling Sirius his wife was dead would be by far the hardest thing she'd ever done.

The Room of Requirement, that's where Snape had said they'd be. By the time she'd reached the blank wall, she was contemplating just leaving a note. But that would be too cruel. She walked past once, twice, and a third time. The door appeared, the knob looking warm and inviting. It twisted easily beneath her hand.

The door opened to gasps and shrieks. Students leapt off of colorful hammocks, wands drawn. The first face she saw was Terry Boot, his eyes wide as he recognized her. Slowly, the students lowered themselves back to their beds. Ginny Weasley was the only one who remained standing. She was watching the floor intently.

"So?" Terry said loudly. A few students fixed him cold looks, silencing him.

"Where is Sirius?" Pomfrey heard herself whisper. Terry jerked his head in the direction of a corner room separated by wooden walls. Her feet moved beneath her, towards the room. She stopped. "Ginny, you should come with me." Ginny followed, but didn't look up.

Sirius' room was small and cozy, with flickering lamps on every wall. In the center was a large bed, where Sirius sat quietly, fully clothed. His eyes were bloodstained and he was completely unshaven.

"You have news?" he asked, not quite looking at her.

"Sirius…" he bowed his head. "She was so far from the office; she was out, bleeding for so long. The curse ripped her apart, inside and out. It fills the lungs with blood before the recipient bleeds to death. Severus and I, we both did all we could."

"Was she in pain?" he whispered.

"No," she lied. "No, she didn't feel a thing. She must have fainted very quickly after Alecto placed the curse. She didn't feel herself suffocate, that much I can tell you."

Ginny stared hard at the wall. "There was no chance?" she finally murmured.

"I'm so sorry. I know this must be a terrible shock. She was so young."

"Please just go," Sirius snapped. Pomfrey left quietly, leaving Ginny and Sirius alone in the room.

"She's gone," Sirius finally murmured. "I can't believe she's gone." Ginny looked at him for a moment, and then rushed out of the room. He followed her as she raced to the blank portrait. "Just where do you think you're going?" he yelled.

"If Esme's dead," she answered morosely, "I have to tell Mum and Dad." With that she climbed through the portrait and left.

--

"I don't understand," Esme said softly. She stared at her scar-crossed hands. "You mean you love like…like a sister? Is that why you want to protect me?"

"No, Esme," he sighed. "I love you like Sirius loves you. Romantically. But I don't expect you to ever feel something for me. I never have. It's just—"

"Sirius doesn't love me," she whispered.

"What?"

"He doesn't. Or at least I don't think he does. But then again, I don't think I'm in love with him anymore. We got married too young, and too quickly. I think we'll probably file for divorce after the war. If we survive, that is," she added bitterly.

"That's why I needed to tell you. I couldn't let this turn out like it did with Lily. She never knew, Esme. You had to know."

"I can't be with you, either," she murmured. "There's too much bad history between us. After some of the things you've done, the things you've said, I don't think I'll ever have full trust in you. And if I don't trust you, we can't be together."

"I understand," he said, swallowing.

"I'm sorry."

"If things had been different, if it had been me instead of Sirius, do you think it would have worked?"

Esme sat for a moment, watching him. Slowly and painfully, she swung her feet off of the sofa and onto the cold floor. For a second she stumbled and swayed, hoping for balance. A test step told her she could walk, and she began to make her way over to Snape. He watched her intently, although confusedly. She finally reached him, gripped the arm of his chair, and lowered her face to his. Her legs were aching and her head pounded like mad, but still she leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

--

It didn't take long for the news of Esme's death to reach Potterwatch:

"It is with deepest regret and sorrows that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell, and Professor Esmeralda Black, of Hogwarts."

In the back of the Potterwatch room, Fred swallowed heavily and nodded, as if confirming the information. Remus paled; this was the first he'd heard of it.

In her own home, Tonks dropped the blanket she'd been knitting for the baby and stared at the wireless.

In the tent, Ron slid to the floor, silent. Hermione bowed her head. Harry muttered to himself, "There's no way. It's not possible."

Molly, Arthur, and Ginny Weasley sat side by side in Auntie Muriel's parlor. There was nothing left to say.

Back in the Room of Requirement, nobody moved. There were no gasps at the announcements. No one seemed to hear a thing.

--

It was week later before Snape posed the question once more. "Esme," he began, "when I asked you last week about whether or not we could have been together, and then you kissed me…what did that mean? Do you think, if things had been different, maybe we could have, you know, dated?" Esme looked at him, watching him intently. After a few painful minutes, she finally whispered:

"No."

--

**A/N: **I have actually started to write just a single-chapter alternate-ending about what could have happened if Esme had never kissed Sirius. I'm still debating posting it.

Oh, and please review!


	18. Chapter 18: Good Intentions

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! They were lovely.

Now for the last of my dedications: These next (well last) few chapters go out to RadicalReason. I don't actually have a set-in-stone length for the story, especially because the alternate ending may actually have to span two chapters (it depends on how big a document the site will let me cram into one chapter).

--

Esme was pacing. Why was she pacing? Simply because there was nothing else to do. She had read all of Snape's books. She had sewn herself a set of ill-fitting robes made from the curtains. She had created a likeness of herself made completely out of food. In six weeks she had done everything she could possibly do without leaving the room. And now that she could do it without tearing holes in her legs, she was walking around the room.

"Severus, I'm bored!" she whined for the fourth time that day. Snape, who was bent over some bits of parchment, looked up at her irritably.

"What, pray tell, do you expect me to do about that?" he asked sarcastically.

"Entertain me," she said, finally flopping down into an armchair. "Bellydance." Snape's large nose crinkled up in distaste.

"Ah, no." He turned back towards his work. "Isn't there anything else you could do besides complain?"

"Clearly, there isn't," she replied smoothly. "Hmmm," she said, looking about the room. "I could cut your hair!"

"No."

"I could paint the walls!"

"No."

"I could—"

"Get down!" Snape suddenly snapped. Out of the corner of his eye he'd seen something flicker in the fireplace. The unlit fireplace. Fortunately, Esme was out of view.

"Snape?" The familiar voice barked. Leaving Esme, Snape strode over to the fireplace where Bellatrix Lestrange's head rested. She sneered at him.

"Bella. Dear, sweet Bella. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Snape caught Esme's eye and grinned. Bellatrix's sneer turned into a snarl.

"The Dark Lord's on his way to the school," she said coldly. "There is a matter to which he must attend. He should be there in about ten minutes."

"Oh?" Snape drawled. "And what matter would that be?"

"I—it doesn't involve you," she growled.

"Oh," Snape purred. "He didn't tell you, did he? Not after that absolute disaster of a kidnapping. To think, you couldn't even contain three teenagers!" He shook his head and clicked his tongue. "How the mighty have fallen."

"So, it's true about Esmeralda Black?" Bellatrix snapped. "She's dead? Alecto finished her off?" She smirked, "Or was it you? I've been hearing both."

"Yes," Snape said lazily not answering her second question. "Poor Bella, you didn't even get to kill your arch nemesis. Nothing's working out for you, is it?"

"Mind your tongue, Snape," she growled menacingly. "You watch and see who the Dark Lord chooses to be at his right hand."

"Yeah, I bet it's me," he said conversationally. With a furious snarl, her head disappeared from the fireplace. Snape turned away and grinned at Esme. "Apparently, the Dark Lord's coming."

"Joy of all joys," she said sarcastically. "Shall I prepare a feast? Or will a simple sixteen-tiered French cake do?"

"Actually," he said carefully, "we should probably hide you."

"No. I don't have the energy. I've tired myself out complaining." He stared at her, one eyebrow arched rather high. "Oh, come on. I could sit very still, and you could say I'm a statue. Or, even better, tell him you've taken up taxidermy!" Snape's look of confusion turned to one of revulsion.

"What a disgusting idea!" he said. Then he leaned down and scooped her up. "No, I think I'll simply hide you in the bath."

"You're putting me in the bathtub? That's a horrible idea!" she protested, trying to kick him. "Come on! Just tell him you made me into a stuffed toy!"

He nearly dropped her. "No!" Carrying her like a groom might carry his bride, Snape trudged towards the bathroom. He'd tried to keep everything the same since he took over Dumbledore's post, so it was rather lavish. The floors, combined bathtub/shower, toilet and sink were all a pure, shimmering gold. The shower curtain, towels, washcloths, and bathmats were all a plush, deep crimson. It was all rather shocking, upon first sight. But Esme had seen it before, so the only shock she received was when she looked into the mirror. It was there where she saw a sight so horrible, so absolutely terrifying; it made her scream at the top of her lungs.

"What is it?" Snape gasped, nearly dropping her.

"It's—it's," she struggled, for the horror was far too great for words. "I have a grey hair!" she finally shrieked, almost breaking into sobs. Hanging right behind her left ear, sticking out like a star on a cloudless night, was a single, iron-colored, strand of hair. Snape glared at her.

"I'm dropping you in the bath now." He unceremoniously dropped her onto the floor of the tub. She looked up at him, wrinkling her nose.

"I'll get you back for this," she said, only half-serious. Her eyes danced.

"You already have," he said somewhat sadly as he turned and left. He'd been doing that lately. She'd joke around, maybe say something silly, hoping to make him laugh, but the darkness would fill his eyes again. He'd look far off for a few moments, sometimes he'd say something somewhat morose. It wouldn't be long until he was back to normal.

It was less than half an hour before someone new joined Snape in his office. The door to the bathroom was slightly ajar, so Esme could hear most of what was being said.

"My Lord, if there is anything with which I can assist, just say the word and I'll do so." Ugh, she abhorred Snape when he was so submissive. It was much more entertaining to listen to him tease Bellatrix.

"No, Severus," she heard Voldemort sigh dramatically. "I don't need you—yet. Although, if you'd like to do my grocery shopping, I'd be quite pleased."

This seemed to catch Snape off guard. "O-of course, I'd be pleased to shop for you, My Lord," he stuttered. "B-but I thought Bella did all of your shopping…and laundry."

"Ah, yes, Bellatrix," he let out another theatrical sigh and Esme imagined him collapsing into a chair. "It seems, Severus, that she is not the woman I though she was." Before waiting for Snape to ask, he continued. "She had all three of them in her grasp—in chains too!—but she failed to even kill one. Just one! Is that really too much to ask?"

"No, My Lord. Bellatrix was wrong to not kill the teenagers."

"And now all of my dreams for us have been shattered!" He was practically wailing. "Now, once I kill Potter, I shall never be able to take her as my queen and populate the world with our many, many children. But alas! Her name has been sullied, and I shan't ever make her my queen!" Esme had to stuff her fist in her mouth to keep from laughing. Snape remained silent in what must have been utter horror. "Severus," Voldemort began, "may I…use your lavatory? Nature calls even to the Dark Lord."

Again Snape was silent for a few moments. "Yeah," he finally said awkwardly. Esme's heart began to pound. The walls of the bathtub were quite high, but Snape hadn't drawn the shower curtain! If Voldemort were to just peek over the edge….She didn't want to think of it. She quickly curled her feet up and pulled her head under her robes. Maybe, if she could just look like a pile of laundry…

The sound of Voldemort's urine hitting the golden bowl was nauseating. As was the thought that crossed her mind right after that: Dumbledore had been naked in the very spot where she lay. Oh, how she wanted to vomit. Finally she heard Voldemort exit the room—without washing his hands—and return to Snape's office.

"Severus, really, I'd have expected better from you!" he admonished.

"Better than what, My Lord?" Snape sounded tense, like he was speaking through his teeth.

"Throwing your wet things into a bathtub is no way to dry them! They'll wrinkle! Here, let's go get them and I'll show you how to properly set a clothesline."

"No!" Snape shouted. "That's okay. Honestly."

"Oh," he said, a bit put off. "Well, if you insist."

"I do. I really, really do."

--

Sirius trudged up the halls leading to Snape's office. What was he going to do, offer his condolences? A fat lot of help that would do. But Snape had to be suffering too; he had loved her as much as Sirius had, perhaps even more. And Ginny had left him and Pomfrey with Esme, praying they could save her.

A shiver ran through his body. He was nothing but skin and bones now, almost as bad as he'd been after leaving Azkaban. And he was just getting worse. The nightmares were back to haunt him: Lily and James, staring at him with cold, accusing eyes. It was _his _fault for giving Pettigrew power. But he'd meant well hadn't he?

So it was true. The road to Hell was paved with good intentions.

A password for the stone gargoyles, along with the summons, was written on an old piece of parchment. A house-elf had delivered it that afternoon. Now it was evening, and, under the Disillusionment Charm, he could put it off no further. He murmured the password, _"Acid Pops" _and the gargoyles leapt away.

Ascending the staircase, he planned his confrontation. Would he hit Snape? Would they draw wands and simply duel it out, each blaming the other for the death? Or would Snape simply apologize, and tell him that Esme asked for him with her last breath?

He knocked on the heavy wooden doors. How many times had he been in that office, either for punishment or reprieve? And what would he receive now? The door opened, and, for a moment, he and Snape simply stared at each other.

"You came," a voice finally breathed, but it wasn't Snape. Instead, a familiar body stepped out from the shadows. Esme Black, with her long black robes and her sparkling blue eyes, was stepping towards him.

And, for the first time in a long time, he saw her smile.

--

**A/N: **That was an awfully upbeat chapter. I wonder what's planned for the next two…


	19. Chapter 19: Reunion

Typical Disclaimers Apply

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **The end of this chapter is inspired by a song! Can you guess which one?

--

"It's changed a bit since you left, of course. It seems you've been sort of a rallying point, though I haven't really talked to anyone…" Sirius trailed off excitedly, has hand resting on the door to the Room of Requirement. The grey of his eyes, which had been so cloudy when she left, was shining like silver. He smiled, and his whole face lit up like a child's. "Everyone's going to be shocked; we though—"

"Severus told me," Esme said softly. "I know what Pomfrey told you."

Sirius nodded solemnly. Then his face lit up again. "Let's go in!" he nearly squealed, opening the door.

Four dozen grave faces greeted them once they stepped inside. It took Esme a second to realize that she was completely obstructed by Sirius. They'd only seen him walk into the room, alone.

"What did he want?" a girl with bright brown eyes finally whispered. It was then when Esme finally stepped out from behind her husband.

"Hey, everybody," she said softly. The effect was instant. The girl with the brown eyes fell out of her hammock. Neville Longbottom gripped onto the Gryffindor tapestry (that was new…) and looked as though he may faint. Other students gasped and pointed. But someone was missing. The full forty-eight wasn't there. Then it hit her.

"Ginny," she said. One word and the room fell silent.

"She's still alive, Esme," Neville whispered. He gestured to the wireless, "Everyone's still safe."

"Safety," she said, with a hoarse little laugh. "I guess that's all that matters now, isn't it?"

"It's not all that matters," Sirius looked at her, hard, "but it's all we can offer."

--

Esme hadn't been back in the comfort of the Room of Requirement for a week before the trouble started. It was late in the evening; the younger children had already fallen asleep. The older ones stayed up, the sense of trepidation high among them. Earlier in the afternoon they'd been listening to Potterwatch, which, Esme had learned, was a station devoted to Harry. They'd heard that there'd been an item had been taken from Gringotts by a few Death Eaters. It had later been revealed that said "Death Eaters" were truly Harry, Ron, and Hermione in disguise.

At about ten, a horrible, piercing scream rang through night. Esme, who had been sitting quietly by the fire, bolted up yelling, "What the bloody hell was that?!"

"The Caterwauling Charm," Neville said, sounding a bit uneasy. "It sounds every time somebody breaks curfew."

"It was probably just a stray cat," Sirius looked from Esme to Neville and back to Esme. It was obvious they were all thinking the same thing. Neville got up and padded over to the window. They were lucky that the room had a window that could give them a good view of the school's foregrounds, not that anyone went outside anymore. He stood up on her toes and peered through the glass. A burst of silver was flying in the dark city. It began to gallop towards the school.

"Esme, Sirius, come here. Does that look like a…?"

"Stag," they all said at once, their tones hushed.

"What's going on?" Terry Boot inquired. Several students were rising from their hammocks and were looking curiously at the three people gathered by the window.

"Well, we can look at the situation one of two ways," Esme said, her voice shaking. "On the positive side: it looks like our savior has arrived. On the down side: he's probably going to be accompanied by every Death Eater on the face of the earth."

"Oh," he said. "What do we do?"

"I don't know."

"I do," Neville said firmly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Galleon. He'd been carrying it ever since Voldemort took power.

"Neville, there are some situations you just can't buy yourself out of."

"No!" he laughed and pressed the coin with his fingertips a few times. It glowed brightly in his palm. "We used these to summon each other when Dumbledore's Army was still standing."

"Do you think people kept them?" Hannah Abbot asked from her bunk.

"I _know _people kept them," Neville said with a knowing smirk. At that point, a small girl appeared in the blank portrait covering the hole they'd been using to get food.

"Who is _she?_" Esme, the first one to notice, gestured towards the girl.

"I'm Ariana, Albus's sister." Esme's eyes widened and her left eyebrow went quite high.

"All right then."

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione have arrived in Hogsmeade. They need to get into the castle."

"Are you out of your mind?" Sirius gasped.

"I volunteer to get them!" Neville stepped up and over to the frame.

"Excellent," Ariana said. The frame swung open and Neville climbed into the passageway. They both turned and walked away, slowly fading from view.

"This is insane. Absolutely insane," Sirius muttered running his hands through his hair.

"Don't you have any faith in your godson?" Esme snapped. The whole room cringed; they'd been hoping that a near-death experience would keep the two from fighting.

"Of course I have faith!" he yelled back. His eyes clouded over. "I have faith that he's going to bring a horde of murderers along with him, and the people of this room are going to be their main targets!"

"Will both of you just shut up!" Hannah cried angrily. The two stopped and stared at her for a few moments, and then returned to their arguing. They didn't even notice when the portrait swung open and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville all climbed out.

"Look everyone Harry's—oh gods, are they fighting again?"

"Harry!" Esme and Sirius broke their fight and ran over to him. Esme, being smaller and quicker, reached him first and wrapped him in a tight hug. "What are you doing here?"

"We're not here to stay," Harry said quickly. "We've just got to find a certain…item."

"The diadem of Ravenclaw," Hermione added.

"You're not here to stay?" Neville said, aghast. "So you're just going to leave us for the Death Eaters?"

"The Death Eaters aren't coming," Ron said, trying hard to sound comforting. "Aberforth set them off the trail."

"That doesn't mean they won't come," Esme snapped. "If Alecto or Amycus catches sight of you; this whole school will be doomed."

"She's right Harry," Sirius said, his voice causing the chattering students around Harry to fall silent. "I don't approve of you being here, but now that you are, you need to stay. You're the only one who can free us."

The portrait swung open again, smacking Harry in the back of the head. Fred, George, Ginny, Lee Jordan, Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood and Cho Chang all climbed out, the last of the seven murmuring an apology to Harry. All three Weasleys froze, eyes wide like a dear in the headlights.

George was the first to react, "Prove yourself!" he growled, attempting to sound menacing. Fred and Ginny stared, awestruck.

"What the hell are talking about?" Esme said, irritated.

"If you're my sister," George snarled, "and not some cruel apparatus, a Death Eater in disguise—"

"Oh George, give it up," Esme snapped. She picked up the hem of her robes, yanking it to about waist height, giving them full view of her pink knickers. Gesturing to the tattoo on the inside of her thigh, she said, "Is this what you wanted to see, my little earless brother?"

George looked like he might vomit, his skin turning a horrible greenish color, but Ginny rushed forward. "It is you!"

"Yep!"

"What's the plan?" George choked out, attempting to change the subject.

"There isn't any," Harry said. His skin was also a sickly green.

"Wicked."

"I mean you can't come along." Suddenly a shiver went down his spine. Esme had clamped her hand down on his shoulder and was breathing in his ear.

"Harry," her voice was low and commanding, "they're going to help."

"O-o-okay. I need someone to help me get into the Ravenclaw common room."

"Wonderful!" Cho giggled. "I can—"

"Luna volunteers!" Ginny's voice completely covered Cho's.

"Good," Esme said. "Now, older students, divide yourselves up into small groups."

"I'll go with you," Ginny reached out and took her sister's arm.

"No. I'm going alone." Seeing the looks of worry and fear on everyone's faces, she added, "Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy will be looking for me. If they find me, I'm not taking anyone down with me." She turned and walked towards the door. Sirius ran after her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her towards him.

"I'm going with you."

"No, you're not. You need to be here to protect the younger kids."

"I'm not letting you go out there alone! I'm not going to let what happened before happen again. If the kids need protection, then you stay here."

"No!" she snapped. Then she lowered her voice to a gently murmur, "It's going to take at least a dozen Death Eaters to get in here, and I'll be damned if they don't try. When it happens, I won't be able to hold them off."

"And you think I will?"

"Better than I." They glared at each other. "Let me go." His grip loosened and she yanked her arm away and left. This time she remembered her wand.

When Esme got into the hall, her eyes immediately focused in on the blood stains on the floor. Shaking her head to clear her mind of the memories of what happened _last time_ she ran out into a corridor on her own, she began to run.

'_The diadem of Ravenclaw is an ancient tiara, believed to have magical powers that give its wearer enhanced wisdom. The diadem has been lost for centuries, believed to have disappeared with Rowena Ravenclaw herself.'_

'_Centuries old? So you must have seen it with your own eyes!' _

An old History of Magic lecture echoed in her mind. _If it enhances wisdom, _she thought, _perhaps the first place to look would be a classroom. _She began running with aim. _Professor Flitwick's classroom! _

The room was pitch-black when she arrived. She waved her wand about, and suddenly hundreds of tiny white candles gave the room a warm, cheery glow. Those candles hadn't been there before; it was almost like they'd been set up just for her. She began ripping open cupboards, throwing everything in them onto the floor. It didn't matter what broke; the same thing would have happened if the Death Eaters reached the room before her.

"I see you've gone from taking the Ministry down from the inside to petty vandalism and theft." She nearly jumped a mile when she heard that voice from behind.

"Sev!" He cringed at the familiar name, but regained his composure.

"What are you doing?" He looked around at the piles of books, rocks, and other junk on the floor.

"Looking for something. Drugs."

"_Drugs?"_ somehow, she got the feeling he didn't believe her.

"Yes."

"Is Flitwick a big drug lord or something?"

"…Yes."

"Esme, it's the middle of the night, and you're not exactly being quiet. Now really, there has to be a reason why you're risking your life."

"There wasn't last time."

"I was hoping you'd learned from your—" Suddenly, his eyes went very wide and his face went very white. He gripped his left arm.

"What is it? Are you having a heart attack?" she asked excitedly.

"No," he said faintly.

"Damn it! I'll never get to use my CPR training!"

"Esme," he grabbed her hand, "you have to get out of here."

"What? I can't, I have to—"

"_They're coming." _There was panic in his eyes and he looked as though he may faint. He definitely wasn't in the shape Esme wanted to leave him in before she left.

"I'm not leaving you alone," she said firmly.

"Esme, no," he said, just as firm. "Look, there's something I haven't told you. Alecto attacked you."

"Yes I realize that," she said sarcastically.

"She did more damage then you think! If Bellatrix or Lucius was to use the same curses, either the Cruciatus or Sectumsempra, it'll kill you at least twice as quickly at it would have before. And you're not as strong as you were! Even just running…Pomfrey said you'd have no chance in war."

"Severus," Esme said, clearly not hearing any of this, "you know I'll be fine." She looked out the window, into the setting sun, "As a token of good faith, I'll give you this." She reached behind her neck and unhooked her necklace. Now, you save this for me, and at sunrise, I'll come and get it back."

Snape looked at the shimmering heart. "Esme…"

"I promise you."

--

**A/N: **Guess the song for major House points!

Sirius: House points? Is that really all you have to offer?

Snape: Be careful, Black. It's getting near the end of the story, she could kill you off!

Esme: Well, that seems horrifically ominous.


	20. Chapter 20: Broken Promises

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **Please don't flame. Seriously. Don't flame this chapter.

--

Esme sprinted across the school to the Room of Requirement, throwing open the doors as if her life depended on it. A large group of people had gathered in the room, and for a second everyone thought a madwoman had broken in; then they realized it was just Esme. Molly leapt up from her spot on the bed and hugged her as tightly as she possibly could.

"Oh I was so worried! I thought you were dead!" Esme glared down at Ginny, who smiled sheepishly.

"Can't…breathe…" Esme gasped.

"Molly, you're crushing her." Arthur, though pale, was looking happier than ever.

"When we heard you were gone," she wiped a tear from her eye, "it didn't seem possible."

"Don't worry Mum," Esme said, smiling and shrugging. "I'm all right."

"Well, if you're not killed yet, you're about to be," Remus climbed to his feat, smiling like she'd never seen him smile before. "Missing the birth of out first-born, Dora's going to murder you." Esme shrieked.

"Oh my God! Boy or girl? Does it look like you? Is it cute? Is it healthy?"

"Boy. His name's Teddy, after her dad." His amber eyes sparkled, "Very cute, very healthy. Keeps changing his appearance, but I think he looks more like his daddy," his smile grew even wider.

"You shouldn't be here," Esme said firmly.

"And you should?"

"It's different with me!" she cried. "I've got a husband; you've got a _family!_ You don't want that boy to grow up without a family!"

"I'm staying," he said firmly. "I have to keep this world safe for my son, and no one's going to stop me."

"Fine," she muttered. All of a sudden, Harry burst into the room.

"_Voldemort's on his way, they're barricading the school—Snape's run for it—"_

"He wouldn't do that," Esme interjected softly.

"What? No, he did, I saw him. He flew away," Harry flapped his arms a few times for a visual.

"He's not gone," she whispered. "He's still here."

"Should we be on guard for him?" She shook her head.

"No, it'll be fine," she smiled bravely. "So, what the hell is everyone doing here?"

"They alerted the Order," Esme turned sharply and saw Sirius. His eyes were red around the edges and his voice was hoarse. "Esme, please…"

"I have to do this, Sirius." Suddenly she felt a lot weaker, like the will to fight in her had been extinguished. All she wanted to do was sit down and be with her family. Live a normal life. Snape had told her she had no chance, was he right? And did she want to test it?

"You don't," he murmured. "Stay. Please stay. I love you, Esme."

The students all dropped their eyes, feeling that it was not their place to look. Harry looked uneasy, andsimply moved to sit down on one of the hammocks. Ginny attempted to get up from her spot on the bed, but Arthur held her back. Esme swallowed and looked timidly up at her husband. His shoulders sagged and his twelve years in prison seemed more prevalent on him than ever before.

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard from the back of the room. A red-haired, bespectacled creature was emerging from a spill of overturned chairs. "Am I late?" he looked around nervously, saw Esme and Sirius first, and walked over brazenly, sticking out his hand "You must be my new brother-in-law."

"I never thought I'd see you again," Sirius whispered, ignoring Percy. "Most people don't get second chances."

"I'm sorry," she said miserably. Sirius turned and sat down next to Remus, who patted his back kindly. Esme remained standing. "I'm going."

"You can't leave on your own!" Molly cried.

"Mum, I'm a _professor. _It is my job to defend all of you. I'm not going to allow this school to fall victim to the likes of Voldemort."

"No," this time, it was Percy who spoke. "You can't go out there alone."

"You're not the first person to try to stop me today, Perce," she said icily. "And I've _killed _better men than you."

"No, you haven't," Ginny said, sounding a bit confused, from her place by her father.

"Then I'm going with you," he said firmly.

"Me too," Sirius leapt up.

"No," she said, taking on Percy's firm tone. "Sirius, I care about you, and Percy…I don't hate you. At least not enough to lead you into the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange." She turned, picked up a gleaming object that had been lying forgotten on a bed, and left.

"Go after her!" Molly yelled at Sirius. "For Merlin's sake, go after her!"

"Why don't we all go?" Remus said quietly. Once his words were out, everyone jumped out of their seats and began rushing to the door. However, when Ginny tried to cross the threshold, Arthur blocked her way.

"You're staying here."

"But—"

"Not buts. You're staying."

"Fine! But if anyone dies, I'm so taking their room!"

--

"Minerva!" she sprinted over to the tall woman leading the group of Gryffindors. "Where do you want me?" McGonagall stared at her for nearly a full minute, her mouth hanging open and the color draining from her cheeks.

"Take these students to the Great Hall," she said finally, gesturing to the line of students behind her. Esme shook her head.

"I can't."

"What?"

"I was supposed to be getting information for the Order, and I overheard them planning my death. He wants Lucius to kill me, but Bellatrix is the one who really wants the job done. I've beat her in battle twice; she hates me. They're going to come here and the first thing on her mind is going to be finding me. She'll take down anyone with me, and I'm not risking the lives of the innocent." Esme said quickly.

"That is quite noble of you," McGonagall bowed her head, what looked like a smile playing on her lips. "I've seen more and more of your father in you as you've grown." She raised her head again, "Head out to the grounds. Find Hagrid. He'll help you protect the school."

Esme ran out of the castle doors and onto the hills. Hagrid had been sacked before she left for hosting some party (to which she had not been invited—she was still holding a grudge). Had Snape welcomed him back, or had he simply gone into hiding, like she had?

"Hagrid?" she called, recognizing the great bushy head by his old hut. He turned, his face, illuminated by the moon light, lit up with a huge smile. "I heard you got sacked!" she yelled.

"I heard yeh were dead!" he yelled back, waving one of his dustbin sized hands, beckoning her over. Behind him some penned-up creatures pawed at the earth violently. Once she got over to him, his smile faded a bit. "Esme, don' tell me yeh're, goin' to fight up here. It's too dangerous. Man's work," he said gruffly, looking over her slight and scarred frame.

"Oh, Hagrid, don't be silly!" she laughed. "Now, what's the plan?" He gestured to the creatures. Under the moon, Esme could just make out the long, spindling horns jutting from the horses' heads. Unicorns. Angry, red eyed unicorns. "Hagrid, how the hell did you do this?"

"They don' like to be penned up. Makes 'em angry. Real angry," he handed her an armload of harnesses. "Only take a few of 'em." Some of the other professors had begun to arrive on the grounds, including Firenze, who seemed to be communicating with the horses without the help of harnesses. Esme tentatively went up to the nearest unicorn and reached up to touch its face. The viciously beautiful horse lunged at her, nearly taking off her arm. "Oh, yeah, they bite," Hagrid added.

After several minutes of struggling, Hagrid finally helped her harness all of the unicorns. He handed her six ropes, each attached to a struggling horse. She looked at them doubtfully, "Now what do we do?"

"Take 'em to the front lines." _Very _cautiously, they led the unicorns out of their pen and toward the fence. The creatures walked like soldiers, with heads held high, lips curling back to reveal stainless white teeth.

"What do we do when they come?" It was getting closer to midnight. Unless someone had handed Harry over, the Death Eaters would bear down upon them soon. There was a chill in the air, too cold for May, which told them the Death Eaters wouldn't be coming alone.

"Let 'em go," Hagrid said cryptically. They stood quietly, but not for long. The masses began to move toward the castle. Leading the group, in all her glory, was Bellatrix Lestrange. Her eyes fell upon Esme, glittering with joy, like a cat that's just seen a mouse. She raised her wand, and Hagrid repeated, "Let 'em go."

They dropped the ropes holding the unicorns, who simply stood there, pawing nervously at the grass and glancing from group to group. Bellatrix blasted the gate open, and the horses leapt back in alarm. They ran into the crowd, attacking anything that moved. A lone arm flew into the air.

"I think they're eating them!" Esme cried; she and Hagrid had pulled away from the turmoil. Well, he had picked her up and carried her.

"Yeah, they'll do that." The throngs of Death Eaters began rushing through them, separating the two Order members. Esme, separating herself from the stampede, stumbled over near the lake, drawing her wand. One Death Eater had already started their attack.

"_Crucio!"_ the Death Eater shrieked. There was a flash of red light, and right before Esme's eyes Firenze collapsed to the ground and began writhing. His paws flailed helplessly, like a newborn's fists.

In an impulsive fit, Esme, forgetting about Bellatrix and Lucius, jumped on top of the attacking Death Eater. "Let's see what's behind that mask, yes?" she cooed viciously. She peeled the mask back. "Margaret O'Hanlon?" She blonde-haired-brown-eyed girl had only left a year ago.

"Seems your husband taught me little too well," Margaret snarled. She pushed Esme off of her and raised her wand. "Now, I've never killed a teacher…"

"And you know, I've never killed a student," Esme said lightly. "And, unlike you, I won't begin today." Before Margaret could say anything more, Esme summoned all of her strength and shoved the girl as hard as she could. Margaret teetered for a moment, and then fell back into the depths of the lake. "Instead, I'll let the Giant Squid do it for me," she laughed as a lazy tentacle pulled Margaret down into the water.

Esme was so distracted be her success, she didn't even notice the great figure bearing down on her. It was only when the shadow was cast that she looked up, and was met only by gleaming red and white. A renegade unicorn, approaching her hard and fast, and she was about to be crushed under its mighty hooves.

Esme took off sprinting, running as fast as she could towards the forest. Finally, when she could no longer hear the pounding of the beast's hooves, she dove into the bushes. Something fell with her, but she kept her eyes closed and hoped it was an Order Member. The thing pulled itself away and she finally looked up.

"Oh shit." For it was Voldemort who loomed over her.

"Little girl," he hissed. "People are looking for you." He reached out to touch her and, quicker than fire, she plunged her hand into her pocket, pulling out the gleaming silver knife she'd taken from the room. She'd meant to grab her wand, but this was just as good. Without thinking twice, she plunged the knife through his robes and deep into his stomach. He smirked at the wooden handle sticking out from his belly, pulled it out, and handed it back to her. "You didn't really think that would work, did you?" She went pale and shook her head. Yes she'd thought it would work, why else would she do it? Stupid barmy old codger.

"_Nature calls even to the Dark Lord." _

"Ohh, poor scared dear, why don't you—ARGH!" She placed a well aimed kick right between his legs.

"That," she smirked, "is what my father should have done to you sixteen years ago."

"That really hurt!" he gasped. Esme laughed cruelly; glad to see the tables turned. Unfortunately, Voldemort's cry of pain had attracted the two people she'd initially wanted to flee.

"My Lord!" Bellatrix cried, rushing to his side. "What has this harlot done to you?"

"_Kill…her…" _he said faintly, hobbling away.

"With pleasure," it may have been the dim light, but Bella's eyes looked as though they were alight with joy. She turned towards Esme and, with a silent flick of her wand, disarmed her.

"Two fighting one without a wand!" Esme protested. That's hardly fair."

"I don't do fair, darling. _Crucio!_"Esme rose into the air, writhing. She felt as though her bones were being ripped apart at the joints, like her organs were trying to burs through her pores, like her skin was tearing open…

Then it stopped. Esme fell to the ground, and instantly climbed back up to her feet. "You think you can torture me to death, you whore? Well I'm a Potter; we don't fall down that easily." So Bellatrix repeated the curse, and each time, Esme rose, spewing the same sentiments. Old scars ripped open in her legs.

"If you would just shut up, I might let you go!" she yelled.

"I won't let you win."

"Fine," she shrugged and handed her wand to Lucius. "Lucius, darling, kill her." He took the wand hesitantly, raised it, and dropped it again. Bellatrix's cheeks flushed crimson. "What are you waiting for? KILL HER!"

"Oh, I get it," Esme laughed, her voice tired but strong. "It's absolutely fine to see me tortured to death, but you couldn't handle the idea of it being at _your _hand. You don't care. You just don't want guilt. Is that it? Look at me! Look at me, Daddy!" He dropped the wand.

"I can't."

"Fine, wimp," she leaned down and picked the wand back up. "Any last words?"

"You're a horrible, devious woman. You kill not for pleasure, but to fill the empty part of your heart. And to make _him _love you." Esme adopted a sing-song tone, "Do what he says, and maybe, just maybe, he'll give you a second glance. But that isn't going to happen, we both know that. Even if you survive, hell, even if you _win _this battle, you'll spend the rest of your life a miserable old hag. The man you love will _never_ love you."

Bellatrix _did _look mad enough to kill. She spoke with restrained madness, _"Fine by me."_ She raised her wand.

"Wait!" Esme cried, struggling to her feet. "I—I may be a Potter but…" she broke her gaze with Bella, searching the grounds for someone who could help her. There was Hagrid, looking over the unicorns feasting on the dead. But Hagrid—well, he'd be great protection, but Bellatrix would have him dead in a minute. Snape was gone, Sirius was gone, her parents…God only knew. She grasped at whatever she had. "But I'm still just like you!"

"Oh?"

"Yes! You see, I've got the evil…I've got your side in my veins, Bella!" she said desperately. "My grandfather, well he was basically the Dark Lord's best friend! He's my godfather, for goodness sake! And I'm sure, with his life-blood in me, I'd be a wonderful addition to your little group." She batted her eyelashes innocently. "Don't you think?"

Bellatrix stared at her, "No."

"You bitch."

Now, everyone knows that that would have been a fitting, and honest, last word. But Bellatrix was still mildly stunned by Esme's plea to join the Death Eaters, so Esme was able to strike first. With her remaining strength, she reached behind Bella to the place where Voldemort had dropped her knife. She gripped it in her shaking fingers, and slowly dug it into Bellatrix's right leg.

A knife wound typically wasn't that much of a threat to a skilled witch. Bella could easily heal herself and return to killing Esme, but she was rather distracted. No, not by her bleeding calf, but by a four-legged, ridiculously good looking creature walking towards the forest.

"Firenze!" cried Esme. The centaur looked at her.

"Professor Slain," he said conversationally. "Why are sitting on the ground holding a bloody knife?"

"Firenze," Esme gasped. "You have to help me! She's going to kill me!"

"Oh," he said, looking at Bellatrix, who now looked a little more menacing, although not to her usual caliber. Wordlessly, he cradled Esme in his arms, then through her onto his palomino back. Then he sprinted into the forest.

"I don't mean to be rude," Esme said, clinging to his waist as they galloped deeper into the woods. "But why exactly are you saving me?"

"You saved me," he said simply. "Now you were the one in trouble, you are a good woman, and it was no harm to—"

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_" shrieked a voice from behind them. Esme turned just as the body beneath her collapsed, crushing her leg. Slowing to a halt was Bellatrix, on a horrible creature that somewhat resembled what a horse might looked like if it was turned inside-out. Esme pulled at her leg, still staring at the monster.

"Guess you can see death now, Slain," she snarled, dismounting. Slowly, she smiled, "Trapped?"

Esme glared at her. "Just kill me now, Bellatrix." She looked down at her crushed leg, "The wounded aren't useful in battle."

"Oh, that's not true!" she simpered. "You're _fantastic _little bundles of information." Esme stared at her.

"What?"

"Tell me where the others are," Bellatrix commanded.

"The others?"

"The ones who were on _your _side. The students. Your family." She paused, "Your husband. Tell me where they are and I'll give you your wand back." She twirled the familiar piece of wood in her right hand.

"Sirius left!" Esme blurted. "He went away when we got fired."

"Please," Bella scoffed. "Don't lie to me."

"It's the truth!"

"Alecto saw him in the halls!" She dismounted the beast and got very close to Esme's face, "Now, give it up, Slain," she hissed. "Once you tell me where they are you'll be free. You're my kill and you always have been. No Death Eater's going to forget that. Now I'll repeat: where is you're husband?"

"Why should you trust Alecto?" she whispered. "_She _knew I was your victim, and she tried to off me anyway." Bellatrix threw her head back and laughed.

"You honestly think she was acting on her own?" she jeered. "Alecto isn't smart enough to make you suffer; she would have just killed you straight out. No, I was the one who told her to use that. I wanted you weak, so when I got you to myself and used your little _boyfriend's _curse—oh, yes, he created it, it's all _his _fault—it would tear your organs apart in a matter of minutes. And Severus, he was such a sweetie, don't you think? He made _sure _that you were safe." She cackled, loud enough to wake the dead. "He's on our side, love. You know, you would have been fine at St. Mungo's. But he demanded you to be kept at school. He never loved you, deary. This is the fate he wants for you."

Esme gaped at her, "All this time…?"

"All this time," she grinned wickedly.

"They're in Gryffindor Tower," she whispered, looking away. "Everyone who was hiding in the Room of Requirement was moved to Gryffindor Tower. Sirius is keeping watch over all of them. The password is…" She thought for a moment, "Liberation."

"Wonderful." Bellatrix dropped the wand at Esme's feet. She turned away at mounted the monster. She moved as if to leave, but turned around in an afterthought. She raised her wand, _"Sectumsempra!"_

The slightly familiar feeling of her skin being torn open made tears well up in Esme's eyes. It didn't hurt so badly this time; the first time had been more painful than a knife wound. Now there was just a little tingling sensation where the skip parted. She pulled on her leg, trying to move Firenze, but it was useless. Even if she could free herself from the centaur, she'd never be able to stand. Bellatrix smirked, "That's what you get for making me wait."

Death was humane compared to this. Blood was spilling out of her wounds and onto the dirt floor. Her right leg was flattened. "Help," she whispered, her lungs filling with blood. She moaned deeply, her fingers scraping across the hard willow of her wand. She brought it to her head, "_Avada…" _she coughed, blood covering her hand. The wand went cold.

_Send a Patronus, _whispered a slightly familiar, female voice inside her head. She opened her mouth, but she couldn't force the words out. She gripped the wand and thought as hard as she could, _Expecto Patronum. _A little line of silver escaped, but nothing more.

She tried to envision something happy, but all she could think about was Snape. How could he do this to her? How could she have trusted him? He'd never wanted her safe….She choked on a sob, blood dripping from her lips. Images floated behind her eyes: Snape and her, walking down the aisle; Snape looking away as he told her he loved her; dancing, at the Yule Ball…

As if in slow motion, a silver beast pulled itself from her wand. It was as large as Sirius' Animagus, but it was most definitely feline. Once it had fully emerged, it stood waiting for her command. _Help, _she thought. _I'm dying, please, send help._ The tiger took off.

Esme sat up, supporting herself against a half-dead tree. She watched as the drops of blood slipped from her wrist, mingling with Firenze's coat, and all sliding back into the dirt. Only one though crossed her mind until the overwhelming dark closed in around her.

_He will come._

--


	21. Chapter 21: Saying Goodnight

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

--

Severus Snape stumbled blindly through the Forbidden Forest. Perhaps it had not been the brightest idea to jump out of the castle and fly as deep into the forest as possible. Well, originally it was a great plan; everyone thought he'd left and no one was coming after him. However, it was not such a great plan now that he had no idea where he was. Not too great.

Still he wandered, he wand illuminating the paths. Through the trees he could see the setting sun in the west. Gripping the necklace in his pocket, he set off north, in the direction of the castle. He pulled himself over a fallen log and into a small clearing. A man was there, examining something on the ground.

"Halt!" Snape barked, in his best commander voice. The man rose ands his eyes instantly narrowed.

"Snivellus," Sirius growled. "Where's my wife?"

"How should I know?" he snapped. "I would've thought she was with you."

Sirius shook his head solemnly, his eyes clouding over. "She went out to the front lines."

"The front lines?" Something in Snape's stomach shattered. For a second he thought he might faint.

"Yeah, something about fighting Lucius and Bellatrix."

"She never mentioned that to me," Snape whispered.

"Why would she?" Sirius snarled.

"Never mind," he looked at the ground. "What were you looking for?"

"Tonks—she shouldn't even be here—said she saw Firenze carry Esme into the forest. There are some hoof prints on the ground, I thought…"

"That doesn't sound like Esme," Snape said, sounding very far away. "She's never been the type to run away from trouble."

"Why do you care?" roared Sirius. Snape took a step back. "You deserted her. You hurt her. Hell, you nearly killed her!" He drew his wand.

"I saved her life," he snapped.

"If it weren't for you, she'd never have been hurt."

"You don't understand—"

"You deserve to _die_," he raised his wand to Snape's throat. Snape fumbled in his pocket, finally pulling out his own wand. The necklace fell to the ground, ignored.

"Sirius," he said calmly, "I'm not going without a fight, but I will not kill you."

"Really?" laughed Sirius, his eyes glinting murderously. "Because I have no qualms about killing you!"

"Please," he whispered. "You don't understand—"

"I will make you feel all of the pain you've caused my wife," he said icily, his silver eyes flashing maniacally. They dropped for a second focusing in on the necklace. "Where did that come from?" he asked urgently.

Snape lowered his eyes to the earth, "I must have dropped it," he mumbled.

"Why do you have it?" Sirius growled. "Did you take this from her? Do you know where she is? Where is she?" he roared. "Where's my wife?! What did you do to my…" His words faded as the blood left his face. As if someone kicked him in the backs of his knees, Sirius collapsed to the forest floor, gasping.

"Sirius?"

"They're coming," he whispered, his breath coming in short bursts. "Snape, you have to help me, I can't take them. Not anymore…" Then Snape felt the cold washing over him. He could hear someone screaming angrily in the background. People fighting… "Don't hurt her," Sirius was moaning. "_Please, _don't…"

"No," he whispered, as the hooded creatures began to appear. He forced his mind to focus. He and Esme, dancing at the Yule Ball, and she was smiling, safe and alive.

"_Expecto Patronum!" _he roared. It was the first time he'd gotten a good look at his Patronus, as it galloped off into the Dementors. He hadn't noticed it had changed. It still had the same markings as the doe, but it was larger, much larger. And fiercer too. But it was still delicate, still fragile. Something like a…horse. But not a horse. Before he could decide what it was, it had disappeared into the woods, chasing the Dementors away. Sirius rose to his feet.

"I can never fight them," he said bitterly. "Never again."

"Someone must have seen you go in. Or maybe they smelled the fresh blood. That means we must be close to the edge." He looked over at Sirius, "Go, find your wife. And give her this," he reached down and handed him the necklace.

"You…saved me," he whispered. Snape looked away.

"Just go." He could hear Sirius walking away. He stared down at the ground where the necklace had been, leaving a tiny imprint in the ground. He knelt down and wiped it away.

When he looked up there was a silvery tiger standing in the clearing, right where Sirius had been. It opened its mouth as if to roar, "Help," he heard Esme's voice. "I'm dying, please send help!" The Patronus turned around, but looked back at Snape, as if urging him to follow. He took a few tentative steps forward then broke out into a run after the tiger.

The tiger led him through the dense forest. He could hear that they were getting closer and closer to the edge. People were screaming. He could practically see the curses flying wildly. But when the tiger stopped, so did all of that.

The first thing he saw was a fallen centaur. Its beautiful limbs splayed over the earth. Resting on its side was something white, as small and delicate as a handkerchief, splotched with dark red smudges. The white disappeared into the black of dirty robes, mingling with long, dark hair. The hair caressed a pale face. White lips, cracked and stained with red; cheeks traced with scars; elegant black eyelashes, nearly touching her cheekbones. A fair jaw and a delicate throat looking as if it had been slit with a dull knife. All of it traced down into a slight chest, still as the night.

Snape knelt at the body and placed two fingers at the top of her fragile neck. Blood immediately soaked him. A beat, the pulse that forced the blood out of the cracks and onto his hand, sounded. With it, he felt the pulse of hope.

He pulled out his wand and pressed it to her throat. "_Anapneo,_" he whispered. Breath flowed into her chest, but her eyes remained closed. _"Rennervate,"_ he whispered again, praying for a result. After a few long, painful seconds, her eyes fluttered open. She coughed softly, the blood dripping down her chin. "Here," Snape whispered. He raised his wand again and silently levitated the centaur off of her leg.

Esme forced a small, pained smile. "Severus," she murmured. "I knew you'd come."

"I'm not done." With another flick of his wand, she could feel the bones of her leg healing and coming together. He moved his wand over the rest of her body, closing the wounds. The gashes in her arms and hands surrendered to the spell, but her left leg still bled copiously and the sores on her abdomen and throat hadn't fully closed. Snape looked at the blood on her robes and closed his eyes. "We'll have to get you to the infirmary. Pomfrey sent for Mediwitches…"

"Severus," she murmured again.

"Esme," he said urgently, "I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I'm going to have to carry you." He laid one hand under her back and another under her knees and scooped her up. She cried out weakly, feeling like even more parts of her skin had been ripped open. "I'm sorry," he said again. They ran through the forest, jumping over fallen trees and twisted roots. They were reaching the edge; Snape could hear the sounds of people fighting. Someone screamed in the distance. Esme laid a hand on his face.

"Severus," she murmured, barely audible this time, "please." He looked at her, frightened, as though he'd never seen her before in his life. A crack in her hand had reopened, and blood trickled from her hand to his face. Blood stained her cheeks and her hairline. She coughed again, spewing more blood onto her hand and his front.

She was dying.

"Esme," he knelt to the ground and lay her down. "Oh, Esme, I'm so sorry. I should have…I shouldn't have…"

"Severus," she said once again. A tiny drop of rain fell on her nose, "It's raining."

"Yes, it is," he said kindly. It wasn't raining. He took off his cloak and wrapped it around her. She touched his hand. "Esme, I love you. I love you so much. Please, please don't…"

"Shh," she murmured. "I've made my choice. I made it a long time ago."

"No, please don't talk like that, Esme! I can Disillusion you! We'll get up to the castle, it'll be fine!" He stroked her hair. "You'll be fine."

"You're right, Severus," she whispered. "I'll be fine." She took one last look at the star-spotted sky, closed her eyes and leaned against his chest. He stroked her hair as she lay there for what felt like hours, her tiny, bloody chest rising and falling in time with his. Blood mingled with the dirt until you couldn't tell which was which. Esme looked up at Snape and smiled, before closing her eyes again. A tiny breath, holding all that she was and all that she ever had been, escaped from her lips, floating away like a lost spirit. Her body grew cold in Snape's arms. Her frail, white hand still rested in his, immobile and lifeless. She was gone.

--


	22. Chapter 22: Saying Goodbye

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

--

The first thing Esme noticed was her hands. Her hands had never been ugly, per se, but lately they'd been rough, red, and dry, cracked around the edges. Especially after Alecto had attacked her, when they been all horrible and scarred. Now they were soft and white. Her nails were clean and clipped neatly, instead of chewed and peeled. Her hands were soft. A sob died in her throat. Her hands had never been soft.

She looked up around the thicket of trees. One of the many tiny streams that ran through the forest was frozen like glass. Rays of starlight reflected off of it and caught on the trees. A single green leaf was twisted in midair, stopped in the midst of its last dance. Below the trees lay her body, cradled in Snape's arms like a child. Even from a distance she could see a single teardrop glinting like crystal, resting just below his bottom eyelashes. Her hand still rested in his, the crimson stains spreading onto them both.

How good it would feel to go over there, to lay her hands on his hair, tickled by an invisible breeze. But it wasn't possible, and she knew. Even if she stayed, there would always be that thin veil dividing them, separating the dead from the living.

She took a few hesitant steps, but her body moved easily, light as wind. Her hand ran across the bark of an old tree, but she couldn't feel it. At the stream she dipped her fingers in, but it was like touching air. The water rippled though, soft waves crashing through the ice. When she pulled out her hand, it returned to her glass-like state. She could see herself. The scars from her face had disappeared, just like those of her hands. Blue eyes still stood out against freckled skin, framed by clean black hair. She reached out to touch the image, for it had to be an illusion.

"Yes, it's quite astonishing isn't it?" Esme whipped around, her heart pounding in her throat. Behind her was Albus Dumbledore, looking happy and healthy, although still quite old. "I remember catching sight of myself for the first time." He chuckled, "Quite the experience."

"You're—you're dead!" Esme gasped. Perhaps not the wisest thing to say, but it was certainly accurate. Dumbledore let out a hearty laugh, one that she had never heard in all the years she'd known him.

"That's true," he said fondly, his blue eyes glittering. "As are you."

"I noticed," she said dryly. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to take you, as some so fondly call it, 'behind the curtain.'" He smiled at her; the blue of his eyes was traced with something darker.

"Do we have to go now?" she asked softly, looking over at Snape. There were flowers in the forest, she realized, and she wondered if she could pick some, maybe make a bouquet, and leave it for him when time began again.

"No," he shook his head, looking slightly defeated. "Not quite yet. You see, there's a rule: You must take no fewer than five people to judgment." He shrugged unapologetically, "Somewhat silly, but it's just how things are. So you'll just have to wait for a group." He smiled again, "But really, those who die in great battles such as this are the lucky ones, they usually get taken within a few hours. I, on the other hand, had to wait around for three weeks before anyone would bother to take me. It seems there are some problems in the Middle East that had to be attended to." Esme stared at him.

"I still have no idea what's going on," she protested miserably. "Why are you here?"

"Excellent question!" Dumbledore said cheerfully, as if he was back in his teaching days. "You see, I am the first deceased person to have a great impact on your life. Which really makes sense, although your parents are dead, they didn't really influence you that strongly." He shrugged, "Still, I am here to give you the answers to life's questions."

Esme stared at him, "Excuse me?"

"Ask me anything," he clarified, "and if I can, I'll give you an answer."

"Alright," she screwed up her eyes, thinking hard. Now was her chance to learn anything about anything! There would be no more fog, all was hers to know!

"What," she began, bending down to pick a flower, "is the capital of Nova Scotia?"

"Halifax," he said, without skipping a beat. "Any serious questions?"

"Is this real?" she asked somewhat bitterly. The flower preened and shone under her touch, but she couldn't tear it from the ground.

"I don't know what you mean," Dumbledore said honestly.

"Am I going to wake up tomorrow, twenty years old again, before all of this shit happened? Will I go back to the start, when things were easy, before Voldemort was back, before I was married, back when I trusted Snape and Bellatrix didn't want to kill me? Back when I could leave Hogwarts without facing any repercussions?"

"This is real," Dumbledore said, "but that's not saying you can't go back. You have every right to live in your memory forever." He peered at her over his half-moon spectacles, "That is, if you want to."

"I don't," she sighed.

"Good," he smiled at her. "Do you have any other questions?"

"Yes. Why did you hire me in the first place? I mean, I never really wanted to be a teacher until you offered me the job at the end of seventh year. Even then, I thought I'd just work here for a year and then go do something, you know, useful with my potions skills." Dumbledore nodded sagely.

"Yes," he said softly. "I wish I could tell you, Esme, that I thought you would make a great teacher. But that would be a falsehood. I was actually fearful that you would abuse your power—and you did." Esme nodded fervently, remembering how earlier that year she'd rushed down the halls, taking points every second, but only from Slytherin. "But eventually you rose to your place and you did whatever you could to protect your students. I must honestly say that I never expected that." He paused for a second looking away. Esme followed his gaze, falling on Snape again.

"I wish I could say it was match-making," Dumbledore said, not taking his eyes off of Snape. "I knew, long before he ever told me, long before even _he _knew, that Severus was in love with you. And I disapproved. You were very young, and I felt it almost frightful that he could feel such an attraction towards you. I figured it as lust," he shook his head sadly. "An old man's mistake. I hadn't believed that love knew no age. That is," he paused, "until the end of your seventh year. Until then, I was hoping to find you a foreign Potions Master to study under. Von Straus in Switzerland was my first choice. But really, I wanted you away from the school, Esme."

"Why?" she dared to ask.

"I did not trust Severus Snape around you. But then came your N.E.W.T.s. And many of them you passed wonderfully. In fact," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "your Potions scores were the highest I'd seen since Severus himself. But then came your Defense Against the Dark Arts test—you do remember who administered it?"

"Severus." She grinned, "Because Lockhart was incompetent."

"Exactly. Do you remember the final test of the exam?"

"No," her brow furrowed and her smile faded quickly. "I just remember that I passed out."

"Yes," he said softly. "But until I tell you what happened then, I must give you some back-story. You see," he began, "I have lied to you as I've lied to many. There's no such thing as a Protector charm." Esme stared at him.

"What the hell is a Protector charm?"

Dumbledore looked at her sadly, "It's simply a myth. One in which the 'Protector' swears to watch over a loved one with their life, and by doing so that person has a very low risk of dying. But in reality, it's simple a way of giving someone false security. Severus, however, believes it to be real. As does Sirius, and many others. Only a few living wizards know the truth. The Protector charm is only a farce made to give comfort. When it's cast, it does nothing but force the caster to lose some oxygen." He finished sadly, his eyes losing their sparkle, and Esme wondered if he had once been a caster, fooled by the legend.

"So Severus isn't really attached to me by some complex spell?"

"No," Dumbledore said. "Not by a spell." He looked away from Snape and back at Esme. "The final test was one to produce a Patronus. Not just any Patronus, you had to produce it to fight off a dementor." Esme looked at him, feeling sort of horrified.

"I don't understand."

"Needless to say, you were one of the first to take the exam and to get far enough to fight the dementor. And it was the first, and last, year we had them." He looked hard at Esme, "Esme, you were given the Dementor's Kiss during that test."

"That's not possible," she said flatly.

"It is. According to Severus, you were doing well until you lost control. You must have heard something….It doesn't matter now. The dementor overtook you before Severus could fight it off." Esme stared at him, her eyes wide.

"That doesn't make sense!" she protested loudly. "I'm not…I have a bloody soul!"

"Yes, you do," he whispered. "The dementor did not fully administer the Kiss, but it succeeded in taking enough to leave you less than human."

"I'm human," she disputed coldly.

"Yes," he said. "There's a way to help—to cure someone who has been Kissed, although not fully, by a Dementor. They must be given the Kiss of Light."

"The Kiss of Life?"

"No, the Kiss of Light. Listen when I talk. The Kiss of Light can only be administered by someone who would willingly give everything to that person. Now, please take to mind that though many people would give their heart to someone, there's only one person in the world with whom you can share your soul. Someone who would leap off of a mountain if it meant that person would live another day. Someone who would give their soul, if only it meant that their lives would be whole. There aren't many people like that left in this world."

"So you're saying Severus…gave me part of his soul," Esme whispered.

"Yes."

"He loved me," she swallowed, her fingers playing in the grass. "He always loved me?" she looked at Dumbledore for the answers.

"He _always _loved you." Esme's insides twisted around. She felt the tears pricking behind her eyes and wished Dumbledore would go away and leave her to cry.

"I…I can't believe…I was so stupid!" she gasped.

"It's best not to dwell in painful memories, Esme," Dumbledore said gently. He touched her arm. His hand was warm. "You must set the past free."

"You're right," she said, wiping the tears away. "You're always right, aren't you?"

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "And of course, you must always have your soul near you," he said, returning to the topic at hand. "So you understand, you had to stay at Hogwarts. And in return, you had almost no chance in getting hurt. You see, the love that he offered you in that one movement was stronger than any Protection spell I could cast."

"Then why am I dead?"

"Ah yes, you'll find that out very soon."

"…Okay," she didn't really see it as wise to argue with him. "What about Sirius?"

"Ah, Sirius. I must say, I was rather displeased when you chose him over Severus. But that was your choice to make. Whether or not you regret it…"

"I just," she looked over at Snape miserably. "I wish I was able to talk to him again…"

"Don't worry," Dumbledore said kindly. "You will be. Someday." He rose to his feet, "When I leave, Esme, everything will begin again. And you'll be left watching it, but you can't intervene. You've returned to the earth. If there's anything you'd like to do before time continues for you, please do so now." He looked at Snape pointedly.

Esme, understanding, rose with him. With slow, deliberate steps, she walked over to Snape. Lowering herself down to his face, she raised her right hand, the same one that was resting in his, and stroked his cheek. "Goodbye, Esmeralda," she heard Dumbledore say from somewhere very far away. "For now."

"Goodbye, Severus," she said, letting her hand fall as time began again.


	23. Chapter 23: Watching

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **There is a direct quote in this, but it's not italicized.

--

She could have been sleeping, from the looks of it. Snape had seen people die before; the killing curse hits them and their faces are a silent scream that won't disappear and the funeral has to be closed-casket. Not Esme. She was…serene. Almost childlike. _Not that hers would be an open-casket funeral…_he thought bitterly.

Snape lifted his sleeve and wiped away some of the blood on her face. She really shouldn't still be bleeding; her heart had stopped beating, after all.

Unless…

He put two fingers on her neck, but was only met with the frozen blood in her veins. She wasn't coming back.

Tears built up in his throat. He had to tell them, he had to tell _Sirius. _A pang went through his chest. Sirius had the necklace, and he'd never be able to return it. If he could return her necklace, fulfill her last wish…He had to find them, but he couldn't leave Esme. Once more, he picked her up, walking slowly this time. They'd have to find out the hard way.

The stars were still shining. It couldn't have been passed one in the morning, but still on the very tip of the horizon, he could see something other than black. A nearly invisible strip of bluish-purple, blending into the sky as if it were all part of an oil painting. It was so slight, but it seemed to warm his cheek like a blast of summer sun.

Esme would never see another sunrise, he realized with a start.

The thought hit him like a ton of bricks. She'd never again laze by the lake, dipping her ankles in the water. She wouldn't take ridiculous amounts of points from Slytherin again. The girlish teasing she loved was done. She'd never have more than a single grey hair. She was trapped in twenty-three forever, until her body decayed into the ground.

People hadn't noticed him trudging up the grounds and into the castle, carrying a dead body. But then he realized that he wasn't the only one. Old students were being carried by even older students, their faces slack in death. Hordes of people trekked into the Great Hall, carrying their dead. Esme wasn't the only one who would be trapped in youth, he thought bitterly as a boy no older than sixteen was carried in by an old Quidditch player. Quidditch. He wondered if the school would ever play again.

Inside the hall he finally saw what the pilgrimage had been for. Dozens of bodies lay in a row, some with their eyes still open, gazing at the star-littered ceiling. Others looked like they'd simply fallen asleep, and they could jump back to life.

Snape swallowed. The Weasleys were already looking over a body. He could only see a spark of red hair between them.

Ginny, who'd been kneeling by the body with her parents, looked up and saw Snape. Their eyes met for a moment before she looked at the body in his arms. All she needed to see was a strand of long black hair. "NO!" she screamed and pointed. "Murderer! MURDERER!" The effect was instantaneous: Both Arthur and Molly leapt up. Arthur was the first of them to realize what—who he was holding. His already tearstained face went slack. Ginny jumped up, drawing her wand, her eyes brimming with tears as they flashed furiously. Molly, pulled her back. "No," Ginny sobbed. "Not her. Not my sister…"

Molly looked deep into Snape's eyes. In a single glance he tried to tell her everything, everything he'd held back from Esme, from everyone, and hoped she'd understand. He lay Esme down next to her brother. George looked at the body and looked away rather quickly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Ginny stood, held back by her parents, tears cascading down her cheeks. "You…" Her parents shushed her.

Snape stroked her hair once again, his hand gliding down from temple to shoulder. He tucked the grey strand behind her ear, leaned forward, and kissed the top of her head. He looked up, hoping to see her smile one last time. That was it for him. His head dropped down and his whole body shook with silent sobs. Tears tracked across his cheeks. Everything he hadn't told her, all of the wasted time, pretending he didn't care…He could have saved her. He could have warned her a long time ago that Voldemort was looking for her. He could've sent her away; kept her safe…it didn't matter anymore.

He rose unsteadily to his feet, his cheeks still wet. Ginny looked away as quickly as she could, but Molly approached him. He stiffened.

"I knew," she said softly. "I always, always knew." She embraced him tightly, gently patting his back. _"Who—?"_she whispered.

"What does it matter," he asked miserably, pulling away. "Revenge won't make any difference."

Lucius Malfoy appeared in the room. For a moment, he stared at Esme, but Arthur glared at him and he broke his gaze. "You're wanted," he said to Snape.

Snape nodded, finally murmuring in a strangled voice, "Okay. Tell him I'll be there." He turned away from the bodies and the grieving families.

"He'll kill you, you know," Ginny said coolly. Snape turned around, thinking she was talking about Harry. She stared at him, an open, honest stare. "He's going to kill you. And walking right into him isn't what Esme would've wanted." It hit him. She understood, just as Molly had understood, and just as Esme had understood.

"I know," he said softly, turning away. "I know."

0o0o0o0

Esme watched the whole thing. She watched her father as he noticed who was in Snape's arms. She watched her mother finally realize what Snape had always felt. She watched Ginny, as realization washed over her like the proverbial flood. She watched alongside Fred.

He'd been waiting for her. "I knew Mum and Dad wouldn't be that lucky," he'd said darkly, his gaze flicking from his body to Esme's.

"Bellatrix Lestrange got me," Esme said conversationally. "What about you?"

"It was a stupid accident," he muttered. "You know, everything would've been fine if you'd stayed in the room like you were supposed to and I spent five extra minutes locking up the store like George asked."

Esme didn't say anything. Was it true? Would everyone be safe if they'd just done what they were told? Spirits wandered around her. She wondered if they would still be alive if they'd obeyed every order. "We should go follow Severus," she said softly.

"You want to see him die?" Fred asked coldly. Esme's heart sank.

"He might not get killed," she whispered. "Voldemort might just want to—to talk," she finished lamely. Fred finally looked at her, his brown eyes softening.

"Esme," he said gently. "You're not—you can't help him, none of us can."

"I'm going, Fred," she snapped.

"Esme—" She stormed off, with Fred at her heels, protesting all the way. Snape had gone through the doors to the Great Hall; he'd probably left the school.

"Now, if I was an evil overlord, attempting to take over the world and perhaps get a nose job, where would I hide?" she wondered aloud. "There aren't that many great hiding places in this school."

"Esme, please," Fred begged. She turned on him, her eyes flashing.

"What's he going to do, Fred?" she growled. "Kill me?"

Fred shook his head, "Not you." Esme stared at him for a moment before storming off again, aiming towards the Womping Willow. The tree stood still, but the night wind tickled one of its branches ominously. Esme proceeded with caution, ducking the seemingly frozen branches. "The tree's not going to hurt you," Fred said, walking smoothly through. "Where are we going?"

"There's a passageway down there," she whispered. "It's where I first met Sirius. I wonder, if I'd never followed him that night…Maybe you, maybe me, maybe this wouldn't have happened." She looked at the star-spotted sky wistfully.

"You can't possibly believe you have _that_ big an affect on the world, can you?" someone called from behind them. They both turned quickly, recognizing the impish smile and shock of pink hair.

"Tonks!" Esme cried in a mix of a giggle and a scream.

"Bellatrix," she said simply.

"Me too!"

"She's definitely in the running for the 'Worst Aunt Ever' award," Tonks said, grinning. Her smile faded and her features sobered, "Have you seen Remus?"

"Oh, Tonks," Esme whispered, remembering the bodies in the Great Hall. Tonks's face crumpled and for a moment she looked like she might collapse. "I'm so sorry."

"I think I'll just stay here," she said tightly. "I'll wait for him."

By herself, Esme slid into the, fortunately open, trapdoor, alone. The dusty old rooms were achingly familiar of the days she'd spent with Sirius. There was the room in which she'd attacked Snape, hoping to keep him quiet while Sirius told his story. The bed where Ron had laid, the corner Harry and Hermione had been backed into, the space on the floor where Wormtail had finally been revealed. Sirius and Remus had stood like brothers, reunited for the first time in so long. Now Remus was gone; she hadn't seen Wormtail, so he had to be gone; _she _was gone.

Esme heard voices above her. Some good soul had left all of the doors open, showing her into a large room filled by Snape, Voldemort, and a horrible writhing snake, suspended in midair. The look on Snape's face was one of pure terror, while Voldemort watched him with a cold sort of amusement. Harry, the good soul who had opened the doors, stood less than six feet from either of them. Neither of them seemed to notice him.

"I must master the wand, Severus," Voldemort was saying. Esme had no idea what he was talking about, but it seemed important. Snape's lips and hands were shaking. "Master the wand, and I master Potter at last." With a sudden swish of his wand, the writhing serpent seemed to be careening towards Snape, fangs bared. Esme felt sick. Voldemort hissed something and Snape screamed, and before Esme could do anything, he was on the ground, struggling, clutching at his wound. Esme didn't even feel the screaming sob escape from her, as Harry rushed forward, collecting a strange blue substance bleeding out of Snape's face. His black eyes stared at Harry, but rolled over to Esme and, for a split second, glowed with recognition before permanently dimming.

--


	24. Chapter 24: Just Passing Through

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **Ahem, you have in front of you the last chapter of the Esme Slain stories (excluding the epilogue (which she's not actually in) and alternative ending (possibly endings)). Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Again, this is totally rewritten from its original post.

--

Esme and Snape stared at each other for what felt like forever. It could have been forever, if time had stopped moving again. The room was still, despite the bleeding body behind them, Bellatrix and Voldemort in front, and the writhing serpent above. Finally, Esme raised her hand, and slapped him across the face as hard as she could. "You idiot!"

"Esme!" he protested, glad that he could still feel the sting of her slap.

"How thick can you be? What were you thinking, 'He'll commend me for running off into the forest'? What is wrong with you?" she yelled. "God, Ginny even warned you! Why on earth—"

"You think the same thing wouldn't have happened if I'd stayed in the Great Hall?" Snape asked quietly. Esme gaped at him for a second.

"Well, you certainly didn't have to walk straight into him," she said coldly, brushing past him and towards the door.

"That's not what I mean," he called, stopping her in her tracks. "And you know it."

"So you're saying it's my fault?" she whispered icily through clenched teeth. "You—"

"Esme," a new voice cut through the dimly lit room. Both Esme and Snape turned. Behind them, over Snape's bleeding body, was Dumbledore, his eyes searching the two of them. "For once in your life, listen to—"

"No," she snapped, her voice hollow and cold. "No, sir, you promised me that I could go back. That I could live in nothing but memories. That's all I want. I don't want to know that some fool got himself killed, just for me. It doesn't matter what I do now, so let me do what I want."

"I was ready to fight him, Esme," Snape almost yelled, his pale cheeks flushing with color.

"You knew you couldn't!" she cried. "Don't you understand; I saw you in the Great Hall! I heard Ginny's warning! And you said you knew," her voice broke. "But you still went."

"You're the one who doesn't understand," he was actually yelling now. "Without you, I had nothing to live for!"

"What about the thought that, if we win this, the world might be a better place?" she shouted back. "Does that matter to you at all?"

"No," his voice dropped. "If you're gone, nothing matters. Nothing, Esme."

"You could have helped us. You could have helped my family," her voice shook and tears were welling up in her eyes. "Instead you went off and killed yourself, all for some girl." Snape shook his head.

"You were _never_ just some girl, Esme. Not to me," he said in a hoarse whisper. "Never to me." Esme stared at him, shaking her head. He walked towards her, and, slowly, he wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders. They stayed, wrapped in each other, for what felt like forever.

"Ahem," Dumbledore finally cleared his throat. Snape and Esme pulled apart. "Esme, I hate to ask this of you, but if you could leave the room for a few minutes.

"Of course," she whispered, pulling herself together. "I'll be outside."

After she left, Dumbledore turned his warm blue eyes on Snape. "Well, Severus, is there anything you'd like to know?" When Snape didn't say anything, but just stared down the path Esme had taken, Dumbledore continued, "Any questions about how you were able to save her from the Dementor's Kiss, or how Ginny knew Voldemort would kill you?" After over a minute of silence, Snape finally spoke.

"No, I don't think that will be necessary." He went through the door, looking back only to say, "Some things are better left unknown."

--

Snape climbed out of the trapdoor, dusting his knees off. Esme was sprawled out on the grass, along with Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, and Fred Weasley. He sat down next to them.

"Is he welcome?" Remus asked out of the corner of his mouth. Esme gave a small nod, and he relaxed.

"So, um, what are we doing?" Snape asked awkwardly.

"To be frank, I have no idea," Fred said with a shrug. "Did Dumbledore come to you guys too?"

"Yep," Tonks said cheerily. "Which was rather strange; I would've thought that my dad had a bigger affect on me."

"And I would've thought my mum," Remus said, his brows crinkling together.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Esme shrugged. "Did he say when we get to leave?"

"Three weeks, apparently," said Fred.

"He didn't tell any of this to me!" Snape cried indignantly.

"Well, we didn't kill him," Fred noted.

"Fred, shut up," Esme snapped. "So, what're we going to do for three weeks?"

"Sit in the grass," suggested Remus.

"Watch clouds," Tonks said, lying back in the grass. "It's peaceful, really."

At that very moment, a large, pure white unicorn raced past them, its hooves scattering everywhere as it snorted viciously.

"Yes," Snape noted dryly. "Quite peaceful."

"What the hell was that?" Fred said, still gasping.

"Unicorns!" said Esme. "Apparently Hagrid's been breeding them in captivity. It makes them carnivorous."

"One of them ate my body!" Tonks cheered.

"No they didn't," Fred argued.

"Yes they did."

"No, they didn't. I saw them carry you in."

"You know what Fred, just keep killing my dream! It's not like I'm dead enough!"

"Fine, whatever," he turned to Esme. "So what happened with—?" She simply smiled and took Snape's hand in hers. "Oh," he smiled. "I thought so much."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's been painfully obvious for the past like four years. Anyway, Sirius was way too old for you."

"He was my age…" Snape raised an eyebrow at Fred, who promptly ignored him.

"He's alive by the way. I saw him in the Great Hall. He gets to handle Bellatrix once Mum finishes with…" They stopped and stared as Harry wandered past them. His eyes were unfocused, and he had a small gold object that he kept tossing from one hand to the next. Esme scrutinized Snape.

"Do you know what this is about?"

"Vaguely, yes."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"You'll figure it out."

"Aww!" Tonks gushed. "You're totally meant to be! And it's even better that you're dead; you can't kill each other through years of gentle nagging!"

"Ah yes," Snape smirked. "In death: No one can here you scream." They all laughed together. It felt good to live without fear again. Well, they weren't exactly "living," but they were happy. And that's all that mattered.

That is until they heard the familiar, hated, high, cold voice echoing across the grounds:

"_Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone." _

The five stood in silence as the screams echoed around him. Hagrid was staggering out of the forest, a body cradled in his arms.

"It can't be," Esme whispered.

"It's not," Snape and Remus said together.

"What?"

"Note how we can't see Harry's spirit rushing to find your little sister," Remus said, grinning.

"Note how you can see, even from fifty meters away, that Harry's chest is moving," Snape added, rolling his eyes.

"You'd think we'd taught them better than this," Esme shrugged as the hordes of students shrieked and sobbed at their "fallen hero."

"I never thought that," Snape shrugged.

"Should we follow them into the castle?"

"Yes, I'd like to see how this turns out."

--

"_NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" _

"Huh," Esme said, watching her mother attack her murderer. "Didn't think it'd turn out like this."

"Oh really?" A small smile was still playing on Fred's lips. "But you know how mad Mum gets. After you left, all she could talk about was killing Bellatrix."

"It would be borderline the-most-horrible-thing-that-ever-happened-to-your-family if both the girls were killed by the same woman," Tonks mused cheerfully, as Molly's killing curse hit Bella right in the chest. They all applauded as Bellatrix's spirit climbed out of her body, dusted herself off, and grimaced.

"Well done. Very well done," Tonks smirked.

"And now, for all of the grief and pain you've caused our families, we're going to kill you," Esme cracked her knuckles menacingly. Bella paled, taking in the five, angry people.

"But I'm already dead!"

"Oh, sweetie," Esme growled. "You can always be deader." Bellatrix turned tail and ran, with Esme at her heels. "Stop running, darling!" she cooed. "I'm only going to do to you what you did to me! Return the joy, you know?"

"Does Esme not care that her brother is about to take on the most evil wizard in history?" Snape asked, looking from Harry, who was facing Voldemort, back to Esme, who had pinned Bellatrix up against a wall.

"Nope," Tonks, Remus, and Fred shrugged.

Meanwhile, Bellatrix was trying to argue her way out of a beating. "Please, Esme, this is futile! We're already dead!"

"Don't care."

"Don't you think it's silly to, you know, beat me to within an inch of my life, when I'm already dead and I'm never going to bother anyone ever again."

"Hmm…Nope!" She punched her in the jaw. After a few minutes, Bella was finally able to yell:

"Look, Esme! You're brothers defeating the Dark Lord!"

"Really?" She turned around, dropping her grip on the victim, who promptly slipped away. "Damn it all to Hell!" she yelled, and then wandered back over to her group. Just to see the one, final curse.

"_Avada Kedavra!" _

"_Expelliarmus!" _

The curse rebounded, flying back and hitting Voldemort. He fell to the ground, his eyes open, blank, and staring. No spirit rose.

"There was nothing left," Snape murmured.

"YES!" Esme screamed. "WE DID IT! We're done, everyone's free! He's gone, he's never coming back! Tra la la la la! We're free!" She began dancing around, shaking her hips, getting dipped by Tonks…Until someone placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It's time to go," the familiar voice of Albus Dumbledore whispered in her ear.

"But we won!" Her face slowly fell, as if she'd finally realized that she couldn't stay here.

"I know," he said kindly. "And now it's time for you all to go home." He made a sweeping gesture to Tonks, Remus, Fred, Snape, and Esme. He also had Bellatrix by the elbow.

"Do we have to?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, "It may not seem fair, but that's death." They all took one last look at the Great Hall, and then turned and followed. Dumbledore led them to the front doors, but when he pushed them open, they were no longer facing the grounds. Instead, they stepped into a familiar, although oddly empty, train station. A small group was clustered in front of an all-white train. Among them Esme recognized Ted Tonks, Arthur's mother (to whom Fred had been very close), and the tall, red-headed woman from her dreams. Next to the woman was a bespectacled man with messy black hair and Esme's sharp nose and strong jaw. Behind them was another smiling couple, both of which had shiny brown hair and full grins. A bit away from everything was a small woman with long black hair and sallow skin. Snape immediately rushed towards her, and she pulled him into an embrace. Fred ran to his grandmother, and Tonks went to her father. Remus was talking animatedly with both of the couples. "James, I think there's someone you need to meet," he was saying.

James?

Remus was steering the bespectacled man towards her. "Esme this is—"

"You're my dad," she whispered.

"I know," he said, cringing. "I'm sorry for being dead most of your life."

"That's…okay. I guess."

Near the train, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Ahem! I know introductions are wonderful, but you have all of eternity to spend together! Right now I've got some questions for these six. Line up, you lot," Dumbledore commanded. They did as he said; pushing Bellatrix to the front while Snape and Esme made their way to the back.

"Bellatrix Walburga Black Lestrange," Dumbledore started. "You've murdered dozens of people and tortured others into insanity. You were unfaithful to your husband in many ways, and you never once felt any remorse," he looked down at her from over his glasses. "Evidently, we cannot allow you to pass through."

"So I'm going to Hell?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "I think it's up to your last two victims." He nodded his head towards Esme and Tonks.

"Is there any way we could punish more people than just her?" Esme whispered to Tonks.

"I think I've got an idea," she whispered. "We've made our decision," she said in a normal voice. "We're going to send Bellatrix, as a ghost, to go live with Lucius and Narcissa. Forever!"

"All right," Dumbledore smiled as two armed guards escorted Bellatrix out of view. "Next up: Frederick Gideon Weasley. Now Fred, you've always been quite a prankster," Fred's grin widened. "But you never harmed a soul that was not deserving harm. You will pass through, if you choose to, that is."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you could have the same fate as Bellatrix—you could return to your family."

Fred thought for a moment, his brows pressing together. "No," he finally said. "I saw Mum, I think," he swallowed. "I thing she knows I'll be alright." Dumbledore nodded and Fred walked over and on to the train.

He moved down the line to Remus. "Remus John Lupin, a wonderful mentor and teacher. You did all you could to protect the people you loved from yourself. And even through lycanthropy, you were a wonderful and loyal friend, husband, and father. You can pass through if it's your choice."

"Teddy's going to have a fine life," Remus said decidedly. "He doesn't need a ghost of a father staying with him." He looked over at Tonks, who, biting her lip, nodded faintly.

"Nymphadora Andromeda Tonks Lupin," he stared at the list in his hand, one of his brows arching up. "Just…go," he jerked his thumb in the direction of the others.

"I'm indescribable," she sang, skipping to her husband.

"Severus Tobias Snape," he met Snape's eyes and smiled. "You have performed countless good deeds for the good of our world. You let two women, whom you loved dearly, leave you so they may be happy. You've saved the lives of dozens. You will—"

"I shouldn't," he cut Dumbledore off.

"Oh?"

"I don't think I deserve the same thing as the rest of these people," he said softly. "I haven't lived the right kind of life."

"I think you have," Esme said softly, touching his shoulder. "In fact, if there's anyone deserving a reprieve from this world, it's you." For what felt like forever, Snape stood quietly, thinking, his dark eyes clouded.

"Okay," Snape said, and Dumbledore broke into a wide smile.

"Of course you can choose to stay," he said.

"There's nothing back there I want."

"Esmeralda Genevieve Slain," Dumbledore read. "You made mistakes when it came to your heart: you married unwisely. But you paid your price for it, and throughout the entire marriage you were faithful and loving to your husband. And, in the twenty-three years of your life, you have always shown the courage and bravery, even to a point of foolishness, that represents the Gryffindor House." He smiled, his light blue eyes sparkling, "You may pass through, if it's your desire."

"What about Sirius?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, looking concerned. "I can't just leave him behind. He's my _husband._"

"You know Sirius," a voice from behind her said gently. She turned around and saw the redhead, Lily, staring at her. "And you know that he'll be okay. It'll take weeks, months, or even years, but you know he'll be okay."

"But what about me?" Esme blurted. "What's going to happen to me?"

"Esme," Snape whispered, "I don't know what's going to happen. All I know is that, whatever happens, I'll be with you the whole time."

"Okay," she murmured. "I'll go." She stepped forward, taking Snape's hand. The gleaming white train had opened its doors for them. "I suppose we're leaving."

"I guess we are. Are you ready?"

"Yes," she said confidently. And together, they stepped onto the train.

**The End**


	25. Chapter 25: Epilogue

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **Just so you know I totally HATED the last chapter. So, I rewrote it! If you liked it, just read this, it's fine with me. But, if you thought it was lacking, read the new one (and review!).

--

Sirius hadn't seen Esme after the battle began. He hadn't seen anyone really, just a face here and there. Just like everyone else, he'd been swept up by the mob of Death Eaters, and he'd been left fighting people he'd never seen before in his life. But also just like everyone else, he was there in the Great Hall when Harry took down Voldemort. He hadn't seen Esme before she left. She'd not seen him either.

"Where's Esme?" he'd grabbed McGonagall through the celebration. The smile on her face slowly faded away. Her eyes dropped to the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Sirius," she'd whispered. "I sent her out to the front lines. I shouldn't have done that," she looked away, toward the rows of dead bodies, "and I shouldn't have expected her to come back."

"What do you—?" he looked where she was looking. He saw Remus, even in death looking contemplative and bookish. Next to him was Tonks, her hair still a shock of pink. There were faces he didn't know; students who'd fought there way past the professors, Order members he'd seen maybe once in his life.

Then there was another familiar figure. One with long black hair, for once resting smoothly on her shoulders. Even from where he stood, he could see the smile on her lips.

"NO!" he screamed, running towards the body, making people turn and look at him pityingly. He knelt down, cradling Esme's head in her arms. Everything flashed before him: every fight, every kiss; every, "I love you."

"I didn't even say…" Arthur put a hand on his back. Sirius looked up at the sudden pressure and saw Snape, lying right next to him, looking as though he'd lost all of the blood in his body. "You!" he cried. "This is all your—you couldn't even—why?" The tears finally slipped out, "You never even cared."

--

Sirius spent the next few years living with the Weasleys, although they were no longer his in-laws. Order members would stop over every so often. Kingsley visited more often than anyone else; he and Sirius had become close friends. He'd also made sure that the funerals, all of which were held at Hogwarts, were beautiful.

There were still days when Sirius didn't think he could go on. He'd wake up in the morning, still sleeping in Esme's old room, and stretch out; still hoping to fill the softness of her skin at his fingertips. Those were the days when he could barely drag himself out of bed, and he'd snap at anyone who talked to him. But Harry was living with them now. That made some things better. Still, he was a constant reminder of what Sirius had lost, or more accurately, let go.

On those days he'd wonder if it would have been better if he'd broken the first kiss with Esme. They probably would never have gotten together. He wouldn't have gotten married and became part of the Weasley family, but she may have still been alive.

It would have been worth it.

--

It was a cold, dank day in November when Molly finally approached him.

"Sirius," she said gently. She'd just walked into the kitchen, about to make breakfast. Sirius never woke up any later than five. He stared out the window.

"I know," he said, he'd been expecting this for quite some time, "don't worry. I have money from Hogwarts and the Ministry, and I can move out before Christmas."

"Oh no!" she gasped. "Sirius I could never ask you to leave! This is your home, and it always will be." She swallowed, "I wanted to talk to you about Esme." He looked at her. "I know, it still hurts, but you'll feel better if you talk about her, please!"

He looked down at the floor, "I couldn't believe it until the funeral. But when I saw her lying there….It just still feels so surreal. I feel like one of these days she's just going to bound into the kitchen, spouting some bizarre commentary."

Molly nodded, "I know. When Hermione and Ron came in and announced they'd gotten married, I could practically hear her admonishing them for doing it legally." Sirius' laugh came out sounding somewhat like a hoarse bark.

"That sounds like her. Do you know what she was doing as a way to take revenge on Snape? She was ordering stuff from the twins'…" he trailed off painfully. Molly nodded and motioned for him to move on. "…From their store. The second week of school she set of a firework during dinner! Well, after that Snape started searching the mail himself, but he had very few people to help him, so much of her stuff slipped by." He looked away sadly, "He loved her, you know. More than I ever could have. And I'm very sure that, if Voldemort hadn't murdered him, he would have taken his own life."

"I knew," Molly whispered. "I knew from the first time I saw them together. It was at dinner, at the Grimmauld Place, he smiled at her. I saw it and I knew."

"I don't know if he ever even told her," He said softly, looking back at Molly. "Part of me hopes she never knew, but I think it may have been better if she had. She had every right to know."

Molly nodded. "She knew, Sirius, but she knew that you loved her too. And for quite some time, she loved you back. But, things do happen…"

"How do you go on everyday, Molly?" he burst out. "How can you go on after losing a son, a daughter, two brothers…" She looked down at the table. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, you've every right to ask. I hurt too, Sirius, but we can't live lives ruled by grief. For a while, after Fabian and Gideon went, not a day went by that I didn't wonder what their lives would've been like. Would they marry their sweethearts? Would my boys have cousins?" She looked at him hard, "But I had two young children then and a third on the way. There wasn't much time to wonder about what might have been. I still think about them Sirius, and I'll be thinking about my brothers, Fred, and Esme for the rest of my life. But it's not going to consume me. I had to rebuild me life, and so do you. Keep busy. Get a job. Find little things that help get you through the day. That's what I've done. It helps when your youngest son leaves for milk one day and comes home with a bride."

"I guess you're right. Still, I can't help but wonder if she was thinking about me…" He sighed. "We'll never know. I shouldn't ever worry about it."

"Well," Molly began briskly, "I was going to tell you that Harry is going to visit the castle today. He was wondering, if you didn't have anything to do, maybe you'd like to come along." Sirius looked up at her, surprised. She and Arthur went to the school every weekend, and they'd never invited him along. He hadn't taken it personally, but still this was quite the surprise.

"Yes," he said firmly. "I think I would like to visit her."

--

The sky was heavy with snow when Harry and Sirius arrived at the castle. Due to the weather, the cemetery, typically laden with people, was close to empty. Professor Sprout was laying flowers at someone's grave, it was rumored that her nephew had been one of Fenrir Greyback's victims. She looked up and saw Sirius, and he offered her a small wave. She smiled back at him, but still made her way towards the castle. He'd not spoken with any of his old colleagues since May. Sirius remembered the classes were still in session and wondered if Harry had disappeared to pay Ginny a visit. He thought of Hermione, who had willingly returned to finish off her seventh year, even though everyone in the class of 1998 was given an honorary degree.

Sirius made his way over to Remus's and Tonks's graves. He stood on the ground awkwardly, unsure of what to say. "So…how's being dead?" he asked uncomfortably. He could practically feel Remus glaring at him. "Um, your son's doing well. He talks a little bit now. He's quiet, kind of like Remus. The people at St. Mungo's say that the werewolf gene isn't something that can be inherited, which would explain the lack of fur," he laughed. "Harry's doing well. He's already asked Ginny to marry him. I think the wedding's going to be in the summer, but I'm pretty sure they'd rather elope. Speaking of which, you'll never guess what Hermione and Ron did! Yeah, Ron didn't want a big wedding, and Hermione didn't mind, so they said they were going out for milk one day in August and returned half an hour later with a pair of wedding rings and a marriage license! Molly nearly killed them both," he laughed. "Well, bye," he finally said.

He wandered around the graveyard for about fifteen minutes, stopping by different people he knew. He tried to say something wise to Dumbledore's grave, but only came up with, "Your grave is pretty wicked, sir."

He did all he could to delay his visit to Esme's grave. She'd been buried next to Snape, near Dumbledore. It was a hero's burial; supposedly she'd misled a group of young Death Eaters into Gryffindor Tower with a false password. McGonagall had caught them before they even tried it, although, from what he'd heard, they'd died complaining about receiving false information from "Bella's bitchy midget cousin-in-law."

When the wind kicked up, he knew it was time. Gripping the flowers Molly had given him, he made his way over. He knelt in the snow, touching the silver stone. _Esmeralda Genevieve Black, _he read. _1973-1998. Loving daughter. Adoring wife. Leader in the Revolution. _He smiled, so they did know about the underground Muggle Studies.

"Hey Esme," he whispered. "I'm sorry I haven't been here too often. These are from your mum," he lay the flowers down. "She's doing better. You and Fred, you know, it was really rough for her and Arthur. But they've got a full house, so mourning's not really an option. Hermione and Ron got married. In Vegas. In a fifteen minute time span. But I guess you'd already know that. She wrote to me from the school, Hermione, says she visits you, and Tonks, and Remus, and all her old school friends every day." He sighed, "I…I don't really know how to talk to you. I guess you and Snape will be the only ones to ever know what happened. I should've gone out and fought with you, but Molly says I shouldn't think like that. Whatever happened happened. We can't change it, and we can only cope with the outcome."

He took the heart-shaped necklace out of his pocket and laid it in the snow. "This is yours, and always will be. I wasn't ready to give it up at your funeral. I'll always love you, Esme. But you should know that I wasn't the only one," he whispered. "Snape loved you. And I think he loved you more than I ever could. Please, don't stay away from him because of me." He turned away.

A bit away from Sirius was a woman. She was pale, thin, and rather tall, with sunken eyes and messy dirty-blonde hair tied back in a poor excuse for a bun. She wore an oversized, old brown coat and a ratty paisley skirt. Her overgrown hair and hollow cheeks were tell-tale signs of Azkaban. She was trying to balance a bouquet of flowers in the snow.

"They're not going to stand up, you know," he called. "You'll need magic." She jumped up immediately, her brown eyes narrowing.

"Who asked you?" she snarled. He put his palms up in front of him as a sign of surrender.

"I didn't mean any harm, ma'am." With that he turned away to go find Harry. It wasn't uncommon to be treated rudely in the cemetery.

"No, come back. I'm sorry," she called. "I've just been a little…jumpy lately."

"Azkaban can do that to a person," he said warmly. Her brown eyes narrowed again and he stuck out his hand, "Sirius Black."

"Oh!" she gasped. "You're the criminal. The one those kids saved from the Kiss."

"Yes, that's me," he chuckled. "What brings you to this cheery place?"

"I lost a good friend," she said distantly, looking at the flowers which had toppled over on the ground. "How about you?"

"Me? I'm just visiting my wife."

"Oh I'm so sorry!" she gasped. "I lost my husband; I suppose it had to be nearly a year ago. We're both Muggle-borns, you see. And when they came to take us away he, well, he resisted."

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispered.

"I suppose I should be going," she mumbled, wrapping her large coat tighter around herself. Outside the castle, Sirius could see Harry giving Ginny one last kiss goodbye.

"I suppose I should too."

"Perhaps I'll see you around," she said, turning to leave.

"Perhaps," he said, before something hit him. "Wait!" She turned. "You didn't tell me your name!"

"It's Anne!" she called, smiling for the first time. "Anne Daley!" She turned around and walked off towards Hogsmeade.

"Sirius?" Harry was asking him something. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," he said faintly. But as he and Harry walked towards the train station, he couldn't help smiling, just a bit.

--


	26. Chapter 26: Alternative Ending Part One

**Typical Disclaimers Apply**

**A/N: **All right, so this is part one of my ridiculously, unnecessarily long alternative ending. I wanted it to be one chapter, but that's just not going to happen.

--

_(Harry's) Third year. Right after Sirius is rescued. Dumbledore's office._

Dumbledore studied Sirius. "You know, you seem stable and normal. Would you like to become the new defensive arts professor?" Sirius stared at him, looking slightly stunned. Then he smiled and shrugged.

"Sure, why not?" He looked towards Esme and smiled encouragingly. She smiled back; looking like something was trying to burst from her. But she seemed to hold it back. Obligingly, Esme stepped forward, reaching her hand out.

"It's been a pleasure saving your soul," she said, smirking slightly. Sirius smiled, looking stunned once again, and shook her hand loosely.

"That's it?" squawked Rita Skeeter. "A handshake? A handshake does not make headlines!"

--

_Fourth year. Near the time of the Yule Ball. The Potions dungeon. _

"Miss Slain," Snape said, sounding almost nervous. It was after Esme's last class of the day, so they were left cleaning up together. Snape fidgeted with a jar full of dead lacewing flies.

"You know, you can call me Esme," she said kindly, wiping one of the tables clean.

"Esme," he said, trying it out. He hadn't called her that since she was a child. "I was wondering, and, oh, this is going to sound brash and chauvinistic and horribly traditional…"

"Get on with it," urged Esme, laughing a little. She looked down, siphoning a sticky potion off a desk.

"Well, I was wondering if you would allow me to escort you to the ball." Esme looked up at him, her eyes wide. He began stuttering, his face turning pink. "Y-you know, since Dumbledore wants the professors to have d-d-d-dates." His face was quickly becoming a bright red. "N-not that you would ever want t-to d-date me or anything." Esme was surprised steam wasn't coming out of his ears. "Oh, forget it," he mumbled, turning away to clean another desk. A giggle sounded from behind him. Great! She was laughing at him.

"Come now," Esme giggled. She reached out and touched his hand. "I didn't say no."

--

_About an hour before the Yule Ball…_

"Professor Slain," Hermione began, sounding like she was about to nag. She and Esme had decided to help each other get ready for the ball. Esme's expertise in Potions had proved necessary for once; Hermione's hair needed quite a bit of help. "Is it true you're attending the ball with," her voice grew very small, "Professor Snape?"

Esme looked at her, shocked. Rumors had been spreading about who was taking whom to the ball, and Esme had heard her name a few times. Still, Hermione seemed like the last person to hear such things. "Who told you?" she asked softly.

"Ron," she squeaked. "He and Harry heard it from the Parvati and Lavender. But he said it's probably because Dumbledore's assigning dates to the teachers, rather than letting them choose. Are you angry?" she finished, staring down at her shoes and practically shrinking into her periwinkle-blue robes. When she dared to glance up, Esme was grinning at her, looking positively radiant.

"I guess the rumor mill only got it half-right this time," Esme said, her eyes alight with joy. "No, Hermione, Severus asked me to the Yule Ball. And I said yes."

Hermione stared at her, shocked. "Do you mind if I ask why?" Esme grinned.

"He's a good man, Hermione. I know he can be a bit abrasive, but inside—and don't tell anybody I said this—he's really a teddy bear." The door opened just as Hermione nearly collapsed giggling. Snape stepped in, keeping his eyes covered for the chance of indecency. Esme saw that, for once, his hair looked clean and shiny. Maybe he'd finally used the shampoo and conditioner sets Dumbledore kept buying him…

"Miss Granger," he began, not removing his hand from over his eyes, "Mr. Krum is waiting for you. All of the champions have to be in the Great Hall with their partners in a few minutes."

"Thanks Professor Snape," Hermione squeaked, rushing past him.

"Severus," Esme said softly. "You can open your eyes." And he did. However, once he regained the ability to see, he lost the ability to speak. His eyes widened, drinking in Esme's slinky silver gown that hugged her curves in all the right places.

"Um," he finally gasped. "You look…wow." A blush crept up his cheeks. Esme smiled at him.

"You look wow too, Severus," she laughed. It was true. His hair and skin were clean and, though his dress robes were black, they were properly fitted and showed off his trim figure. Both of them smiling, she took his arm and they made their way into the procession of professors.

The students seemed rather shocked that their teachers could be anything other than dowdy and conservative, so no one was really surprised at the gasps and shrieks emitting from the audience. And they had every reason to gasp and shriek. McGonagall and Dumbledore both looked absolutely lovely. Sirius Black, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was quite dashing, even when he wasn't dressed to the nines (Esme knew for a fact that several girls were planning on making him their Valentine). And both Esme and Professors Sprout and Sinistra had chosen to show an alarming amount of cleavage.

Still, the person getting the most stares, gasps, and cat calls was Snape. And it was making him blush harder than ever.

"They're just surprised you agreed to go with me," he muttered, tucking into his dinner.

"Well why wouldn't I? I mean, you are ridiculously handsome, charming, and chivalrous…Oh wait, no, that's not you, is it?" He swatted her lightly on the arm.

"Would you like to dance?" he said to someplace past Esme's left ear, after dinner had finished.

"I would love to dance," she said. She took his hand and, after a few minutes of fumbling, he interlaced his fingers with hers. He laid a hand on her waist as she placed one on his shoulder and, carefully, they began to dance.

"Ow," she flinched as he treaded upon her toe.

"Sorry," he apologized, quickly stepping away from her. "I'm so sorry, Esme. I'm a terrible dancer. I—" She put on a finger on his lips.

"It's fine, Severus," she said softly. She wasn't giggling anymore. "Do I look upset?" No. She didn't look upset. In fact she looked radiant. Even her eyes were shining. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and then he took her hands. The tournament, the ball, the entire outside world seemed to melt away with one simple action. They inched closer to each other, hearts pounding. He dropped her hands and wrapped his arms around her back. They were so close their foreheads nearly touched…

"Severus!" a voice sounded from the outside world. The spell broke. They were standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor. A few couples were staring at them. Out of the corner of her eye, Esme saw Percy smirking at her. He was obviously writing his letter to Molly in his head. Karkaroff was behind Snape.

"Yes," Snape muttered through clenched teeth.

"I need to see you outside, now." He looked at Esme and quickly added, "Alone." Snape looked back at Esme. She shrugged, and he turned and left.

Esme wanted to cry. Or kill Karkaroff. They both seemed like good options. "I guess that's what you get for dating a Death Eater." Sirius was standing behind her, sneering back at where Snape had been.

"What are you talking about," she snapped quickly.

"Oh, come _on_!" he practically shouted. "You've seen the Mark. You were there last summer; you know what he's capable of."

"Severus is a good man, Sirius. I know you two have a past, but he's a good man."

"He tried to turn me over to the Dementors, Esme."

"He wasn't thinking clearly. He's a good man, Sirius," she repeated.

"Fine," he smirked at her. "It's your funeral."

Esme stormed out of the castle, wishing she had a wrap once the cold air hit her. She shivered. Perhaps leaving the castle wasn't the best idea. Still, she wandered down the paths, not bothering to blast apart the canoodling couples in the bushes. _Let them have their fun,_ she thought bitterly.

At one point she came to one of the highest snow-covered bushes, and heard a familiar voice. For a second she thought she saw a flash of red hair a few paths away (most likely a sibling), but it disappeared beneath the snow banks. She listened close for strains of the familiar voice,

"…I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts." It was definitely Snape, and he was definitely displeased. She pushed her way through the snow-covered bush, probably the dumbest idea _ever_, as she was wearing no wrap or shawl, and fought her way onto his path.

"Severus!" she gasped, still shaking off bits of snow.

"Esme?" He quickly pushed Karkaroff away and rushed to her side.

"I'm sorry, I heard you talking, I shouldn't have gone through the bushes…"

"No, no, it's fine," he laughed. "I'm glad you're here," he said, hugging her tightly. "But you're freezing! Why did you go through the bushes? Here take this," he wrapped his heavy black cape around her before she could respond. Then he laughed again. "You amaze me Esme."

Then, without any pretense or fade from reality, Esme got up on her toes and kissed him full on the mouth.

--

For awhile after the kiss, nothing happened. After all, they'd supposedly gone to the dance as "just friends." Although several students had seen the kiss, none of them were brave enough to confront the two teachers know for their sporadic temperaments and bizarre punishments. They did, however, make a few choice comments when Esme found a dozen long-stem roses sitting on her desk on Valentine's Day. Fortunately she was in too much of a happy daze to kill the commentators.

Finally it was time for the Third Task. After the four champions had trudged into the freakishly huge maze, the hundreds of spectators had relatively nothing to do. So they did nothing.

"Esme," Snape finally said, after a half an hour sitting in awkward silence, "we haven't really talked for awhile."

"Well, you know," Esme said, fingering her hair and looking away. "Work and all…"

"Esme," he said firmly. "We need to talk. I—I think we should date." Esme looked back at him. "I know, it's unlikely your parents will approve, and if the students find out, it would be terrible…You're right, we shouldn't date," he concluded.

"We don't have to tell the students," she mused. Snape stared. "And I doubt my parents would have a problem. I mean, you have a job—"

"And a past," he said softly.

"It doesn't matter to me. We all make mistakes, don't we? You're only human."

"The mistakes I've made are quite different than the mistakes others have made." He got up to leave, "I should never have brought this up." He left the arena, Esme running after.

"Severus, stop," she said firmly, grabbing the back of his robes once they'd left the pitch. She pushed him up against the wall, "Now we can do this the easy way, and you can _date_ me like you want to," she paused pushing him harder against the wall. "Or, I can stalk you until you date me like _I _want you to." He looked down at her, amused.

"You're scary," he said, leaning down to kiss her.

--

"What do you mean, You-Know-Who came back to life when we were gone?!"

--

_Fifth Year. Midsummer. Number 12 Grimmauld Place._

"_Giving a report. Top secret."_

"_Git," said Fred idly._

"_He's on our side now," said Hermione reprovingly._

"And he's dating Esme," Ginny said bracingly. Harry, Ron, and the twins turned to her, clearly mortified. Hermione shrugged her shoulders and nodded, confirming the statement.

"Since when?" gasped Fred.

"You didn't wonder why he was always staying for dinner?" Hermione giggled. It was true; Snape had begun to stay after meetings. He and Esme would sit together, talking quietly, then their eyes would meet and they'd smile. Then Molly would positively beam at them. It was enough to make the boys sick.

"And," Ginny said, her eyes sparkling, "Bill said that Fleur Delacour said that she saw them snogging after the Yule Ball!"

"Urgh!" the boys moaned, each turning a different shade of green.

"But they're trying to keep it a secret, especially from students," Hermione noted.

"How do you know all this?" Ron was clearly aghast. He too was under the impression that Esme and Snape were "just friends."

"I asked Mum," Ginny said, giggling, "and she just smiled and said she didn't know a thing. Now, either that means Esme told her and she's forbidden to tell us, or Esme hasn't told her and she just has her suspicions."

"You know," George said, twirling what looked like a piece of flesh-colored string, "the meeting's almost over, and we could see if she 'sees him to the door.'" He raised his eyebrows lecherously. One by one, the group filed into the hallway above the foyer. They could see some Order members leaving. Snape and Esme were among them. He was pulling on an old traveling cloak while she bade farewell to the members. Finally, it was only her and Snape left. That's when they dropped their ears.

"Will I see you again this week?" They heard Esme ask, so clear she could have been in the hall next to them.

"I hope so," there was Snape, but it didn't sound like Snape. His voice was soft and gentle, almost loving. It made their stomachs churn. "I'd rather be here than anywhere else." Then there was a horrible, terrible sound: lips meeting lips. Everyone yanked their Extendable Ears out.

"Oh God," Ron moaned, sliding to the floor. "Why Snape? Why not Flitwick, or somebody?"

"You know," Ginny said, her voice shaking, but also rather loud, "if they're dating, they're probably sleeping together."

"You know," said a cool voice that made them all jump out of their skin, "not only can we see you from down here, we can also hear you." Standing at the bottom of the stairs was Esme, her eyebrows raised and her mouth stretching into a frown.

"And to answer your question, Ginny," Snape appeared behind Esme, smirking, his arm wrapping around her waist. "No, your sister, and Potions professor, and I are not having sex."

All in all, it was a rather disconcerting summer.

--

"You're still being absolutely horrible to the students, you know," Snape noted one day after class. Esme had been rather horrible to the students, but, true to her form, they were only Slytherins.

"Of course I am, I don't want them to start wondering why I'm happy. Anyway, you're being just as awful." She looked over at him and smirked, "Would you like me to start treating them nicely?"

"Of course not! Your cruelty's what I love about you!" he said, his tone layered in sarcasm.

"_That's_ what you love about me?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, there are other things too."

--

_Mid-October. Outside the Potions Dungeon_

"You know," Ron said, after a class of gaining homework and losing House points, "you'd think Snape might be a happier, kinder person after dating Esme."

"Really, Ron," Hermione questioned, pushing her textbook back into her bag, "would dating Esme make anyone a happier person?"

--

_Mid-December, near end-of-term. Snape's quarters._

"You have a single bed?" Esme asked coolly, fighting to hide the flicker of a smile pulling at her lips.

"If it was any bigger we wouldn't be able to walk in here," Snape mumbled into her hair, pressing tiny kisses up her neck. The couple moved to the bed, their bodies intertwining, hands grasping at robes. Finally, Snape worked his fingers through the last of the buttons and slipped Esme's robe off to finally reveal…a navy hooded sweatshirt. He stared at her for a moment, and then roughly pulled it over her shoulders.

"Is it really that cold in here?" he asked, eyeing the lime green sweater residing under the sweatshirt.

"Not everyone has your stupid Arctic genes," she muttered back, helping him to remove the sweater. And the oxford blouse. And the cotton t-shirt and camisole, until he was finally down to just struggling with her bra.

However, just as Snape was figuring out the clasps, there came a sharp knock at the door, and Minerva McGonagall burst in, her cheeks flushed and her hair falling out of its normally strict bun. "Severus!" she cried. "Have you any idea where—?" But her question was quickly answered as Esme popped up from under Snape's duvet, still clutching her bra to her chest.

"Hello Minerva!" she chirped. "What the _hell _are you doing here?"

"Oh, well," she flush in her cheeks had spread to her entire face and down her neck. "You weren't in your room….You see; your father is, ahem, in the hospital. Suffered a rather nasty bite…."

"Damn it," Snape muttered under his breath as Esme pulled on an old dressing gown.

--

"Well, my father's going to be fine. We just visited him yesterday, and he's doing a lot better." It was January second and already Order meetings had restarted. If Esme ignored Moody's shock of pink hair and Tonks's new glass eye, she could almost pretend that the holidays hadn't just ended. But for now, her life was revolving around one person.

"Esme," Snape said, his black eyes shining. He'd been to the Grimmauld Place more often than any other Member, disregarding those who lived there, and it was becoming more and more difficult to hide the fact that they were…involved. "Have you ever thought about getting married?"

Esme stared at him for a moment, and then answered with a small, sly smile. "I can neither confirm nor deny that I've had those thoughts. But yes, I have had them."

"At times I think you're so clever," he noted, "but then you open your mouth again."

--

_Late Spring, near end-of-term. Esme's office._

A harsh banging on her door forced Esme to look away from her new copy of Witch Weekly. "Come in," she called exasperatedly.

"Esme, it's an emergency," Snape said instantly. She sighed.

"It's always an emergency. Did one of the kids put poison in the food again?"

"No," he paused for a moment. "He had your parents." Esme felt the blood leave her face as her heart hammered in her ear.

"Voldemort?" she said in a light voice.

"Yes," he said, in a sort of forced calm. Esme noticed how badly his hands were shaking and how his fast, although normally pale, looked almost translucent in the dim light of her office.

"How do you know?"

"Harry, he had some sort of vision. Dumbledore said this might happen. I think he's gone off to the Ministry; a saw some things fly past. I've already contacted the Order."

"Well, what're you waiting for?" she cried. "Let's go!"

"No," he said firmly. "Kingsley told me specifically not to send anyone from the school down there. We'll raise suspicions if we do. Black's staying back too."

Esme sighed, defeated. "Fine." Then she added quietly, "I don't really care for Black. He smells like a dog."

"Yeah, I don't like him either."

--

Esme's gaze washed over Harry, Ron, Hermione (lying in an infirmary bed), Tonks, Kingsley, Remus, Sirius, her parents (who, apparently, had _not _been held captive), other various Order members, Dumbledore, and finally landed on Snape and narrowed dangerously. "So, there was a huge fight where we basically kicked Death Eater arse in every possible way, and _you _kept me home?" Snape smiled and shrugged apologetically. She shook her head, "That's it; we are not friends anymore."

"Yes, um about that," said Snape, slightly stumbling over his words. For a second he glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded encouragingly. Slowly, he lowered himself onto one knee. "Esme, I really think we're more than friends," he reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. "Will you marry me?"

--

**A/N: **The next update shall be my last (for this story…I have an election to write!), until then, please review!


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